


If Lost, Return to Hawke

by delazeur, thecryoftheseagulls



Series: Logan Hawke - Fadewalk RPs [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: (kind of), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anders' Electricity Trick, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkward Hawke, Blow Jobs, Diplomatic Hawke, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, In the Fade, M/M, MMORPGs, Mutual Pining, Naked Cuddling, Non-Penetrative Sex, Roleplay Logs, Self-Esteem Issues, Voice Kink, Weird Fade Shit means modern!au handers are suddenly in Skyhold, for hand-wavey reasons, primal mage Hawke is pretty good with electricity too i'm just saying, so schmoopy it's ridiculous honestly, the word cherish gets tossed around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 09:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 38,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5702809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delazeur/pseuds/delazeur, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecryoftheseagulls/pseuds/thecryoftheseagulls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a modern, no-magic, all-humans AU, the Dragon Age franchise is a long-running MMO, with some of the characters from the games as NPCs in the MMO lore, but some of them as players - particularly the Kirkwall crew as Hawke's guild. Anders is a scholarship pre-med student who can barely feed himself, and spends his evenings healing dungeons for his guild and pining after Logan Hawke. Hawke is a 24 year old high school dropout who never went to college. He runs a business with Varric, still lives with his mother and Carver, isn't out to his family as gay, and spends his free evenings making moony eyes at his computer screen whenever Anders shows up.</p><p>Somehow they get thrown into a very real Skyhold, along with other Dragon Age characters from alternate timelines, and while there's some very real, very weird magic shit going on, mostly this seems to present an excuse to get their heads out of their asses and figure out they're in love with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this series is just going to be me reposting the Logan and Anders logs from the [Fadewalk community](https://fadewalk.dreamwidth.org/424.html) over on dreamwidth. It may be the most self-indulgent thing I've posted here, but I like everything to be in one place, and well, I've read these rps multiple times and I still think they're some of my favorite things I've written. Logan Hawke's pov is mine ([thecryoftheseagulls](thecryoftheseagulls.tumblr.com)) and the Anders stuff was written by [delazeur](http://archiveofourown.org/users/delazeur/pseuds/delazeur). 
> 
> Rp logs make for awkward formatting, and I was originally going to experiment with right aligning different povs for ease of reading, but that looked terrible, so now I've just got it all separated by breaks. Hopefully that works okay.
> 
> The original rp (from September 2015) for this fic can be found [here](https://fadewalk.dreamwidth.org/43710.html). This one'll be updated as I transfer everything.

Logan pulled his thick-rimmed black glasses off and rubbed at his eyes before settling them back on his face and pushing them up his nose. Right.

"Anders, you still with us?" he said into his headset, waiting for a reply before they pressed on into the next room. Not for the first time, he wondered who decided his mage should be the leader in these parties. Surely Aveline or Fenris would have been a better choice...and Logan wouldn't constantly be on the verge of death before Anders could heal him. Not that he minded relying on their healer; it was a convenient excuse to complain and whinge and generally talk to Anders more than he otherwise would.

He coughed around a swallow of Sunkist at the thought.

Anders was unusually silent, though Varric's voice said, "You okay there Waffles?" and Carver just groaned loudly and whined, "Can we please get on with it?"

Logan leaned back in his chair and called, "Don't make me come in there, bro," out his open bedroom door and at Carver's door across the hall. He could see Carver flip him off in his closet door mirrors and chuckled. "Love you too Carver!" 

Isabela's suggestive purr at that was interrupted by a loud shout through the voice chat, no, a scream, and while everyone else started complaining loudly at the noise Logan felt a jolt of panic go through him, because that had been Anders' voice, like he was flat out panicking and in pain. He grabbed at his headphones with both hands and then he was standing in front of his desk before he realized it. 

"Anders? Anders! Anders, are you okay?" But his voice didn't cut through everybody else's clamoring and there was nothing else coming from Anders and Logan groaned, "Shit" and leaned forward towards his screen...

...and then he felt a jolt, like something grabbed him at the navel and yanked him forward. He was falling, he was suffocating, he was...deposited ungracefully five feet up from the ground and tumbling down some huge stone steps on what looked like a real live castle's battlements.

\------

It was dungeon night and that meant that Anders was scrambling to his computer with caffeine shakes and a bag of corn chips he found in the cupboard that he wasn't sure were his, but he knew they were waiting - Hawke was waiting - because it was the night before reset and they only had three more hours to clear to the Architect and get a couple of attempts in before they had to clear the whole of the Deep Roads again. 

And Anders hated healing trash pulls.

But he was settled now, even if he felt... off. A little slow on the draw, too distracted by half by Hawke's voice in his ear. He'd wanted, for weeks now, to have a conversation that was... more. More than conversations about how his classes were going, or what stupid t-shirt Hawke had caught Carver wearing while taking mirror selfies and flexing. (Although hearing Carver's outraged howling through Hawke's headset mic had been pretty fantastic.)

It didn't fix the leaden feeling in Anders stomach, and... Man, he felt feverish. Weird. He unmuted his mic to call a bathroom break, get a drink of water, whatever, but there was suddenly fire in his veins and he couldn't see anything and he knew he was screaming.

Everything went cold, and... wet. Really, really wet. He thrashed, choking on a mouthful of water, trying to find his way to the surface of a... pond. A big, freezing cold pond? What the actual fuck?

He managed to find footing in the shallow water and pushed himself toward the edge of the small lake, gasping and coughing. When he lifted his head and saw the outline of a castle he barked a sudden, hoarse laugh.

"It finally happened. I've gone completely barking mad."

\------

"Not real. Having a nervous breakdown. And that's fine. It'll be completely fine." Anders felt like he weighed an extra thirty pounds, which wasn't far wrong with how much pond water his clothes had absorbed. He shivered as he approached the looming archway slowly, eyes wide. 

The stone felt so real, the grit of mortar flaking under his fingernail, and he trailed his hand along it as he climbed a set of stairs up onto what were... walls. Battlements? The crenelations were the... castle-shaped things at the top? 

He'd been playing fantasy games for years and he had no bloody idea. 

It was colder as the wind whistled over him, and he huddled, arms going around himself. "Maker save me, I'm going to freeze to death in a hallucination." He kept walking, trying to chafe warmth back into his skin. 

The tingling was uncomfortable, like pins and needles, but hot, and trying to get out, which wasn't exactly how he'd ever heard hypothermia described before, so that was a relief. He had to stop and lean against the wall as a violent shudder overtook him. 

All of a sudden he was hot, far too hot and he held his hands away from his face, watching his clothes send curls of steam into the air. "Well, fantastic. My fucking fingers are on fire." He just stared in fascination at the licks of yellow-orange flames that limned his hands.

\------

In the handful of seconds Logan had before he was plummeting towards stone steps, he was pretty damn sure he was going to die. Or at least break something, an arm, a rib, if not his spine. He tried to curl in on himself and shelter his head with his arms, and that was about all the time he had to think before he hit the ground. And...bounced? Not exactly, but his skin definitely didn't connect with stone. 

Which was because his skin was stone, he realized when he looked down. 

"WHAT THE FUCK!" he yelled, throwing himself backwards until his back hit the step behind him. He touched one stone-covered hand to one stone-covered arm and shuddered violently. Yes. His skin was stone. Stone...armor to be specific? He jerked his own hand back. "Ohmigodohmigodohmigod what the hell..."

It was a spell, a spell he knew in the game, where he was a mage, for chrissakes. "That's it. Thank you, Mother, all your warnings about too much time on the internet were correct, I've finally lost it. I'm delusional. I'm imagining I can do magic now."

As Logan watched, the stone armor withdrew into itself and faded like it had never been, as if it sensed he didn't need it anymore. His skin tingled weirdly all over and he felt some strength go out of him, somewhere deep in his core, like he could sense...his own loss of mana? now that he'd ceased the spell. He gave a hysterical half-laugh, half-sob. And he still felt bruised, all down his right side especially, which was the side he'd landed on, although at least he wasn't dead, so that was a plus.

\------

The flames had gone on until they had _hurt_ and Anders had shaken them out with a yelp. At least his clothes were drier now? He was still shivering, though not just with cold. 

He had no idea. He kept walking until he heard a shout, someone _screaming_ profanity at the top of his lungs and he broke into a run. There were other people? Who was he hallucinating being here? 

With his luck this would turn out to be some horrible stress dream about his father.

\------

Logan poked his own arm experimentally and was relieved to find it still felt fleshy under his fingers. He wanted desperately to believe this meant everything was all right, but there was still the chill, slightly damp stone under his ass and a weirdly cloudy sky above him, and more importantly he could still feel that extra core of power inside him, like some weird battery just out of reach that he could probably tap into with some practice. 

It was eerily quiet, and Logan realized with a start that with the stone armor receded he could feel his ears again, or rather feel his headphones still clamped over them. He reached up to pull them off, inspecting the cord where it was sheared off right in the middle. 

"Great," he muttered. He put them around his neck for lack of a better thing to do with them.

"Shit - Anders!" he remembered, jumping to his feet.

\------

It was a lot like being in a dream. Anders could feel things, hear them, even taste the manky residue of the pond and some strangely compelling metallic tang in the air, but nothing seemed to be actually happening. 

He blinked in mild curiosity as he crossed the courtyard to where someone was standing on the steps with a pair of headphones in his hand. That... was weird. Weirder than dreaming about being suddenly transported to a castle in a no-place with a sickening vortex of green in the sky and where he could do magic? Actually yes. 

He flexed his hand, wincing at the pulling pain of the rising blisters, but without concern. It wasn't real. He started climbing the steps, still only feeling a growing cold in his core and the vaguest of interest.

\------

Logan, always a problem solver, quickly starting sorting through what he knew. 

Okay, so Anders was in trouble, probably pain. He himself was having a mental breakdown and imagining that not only could he do magic, he was in some kind of gigantic castle - thing? Logically he'd brought only his headphones. Oh, and his glasses. Because of course. What else do you need in crazy hallucination dreams? He pulled his glasses off and hooked them in the front of his hoodie - definitely didn't need those at the moment. He was only the slightest bit farsighted. He was also cold, and bruised. 

Oh, and look at that, the most beautiful man he'd ever seen in his life was walking up the steps - battlements, whatever - towards him. 

That was weird. Less nightmare and more freakishly odd fantasy.

"If Carver put some weird shit in my soda while I was in the bathroom, I'm gonna seriously have to have a talk with that kid."

\------

The first thing to cut through the cold of shock and disassociation, (because that was definitely what Anders was feeling, and he knew it, had been here before in his life) was the voice of the man standing above him. 

_That_ voice was something he thought about at night when he was trying to get his overclocked brain to stop worrying about his next exam. That voice was the reason he rushed home to his empty apartment in the evenings he didn't have class to sit at his computer. 

That voice made him trip on the next step and nearly eat shit. He caught himself awkwardly, tripping up a few steps until he was standing just a couple below the fucking gorgeous stranger. Only he wasn't a stranger? Or was this just Anders further circling the sanity drain? 

That seemed most likely, actually. 

But he still wet his lips and said quietly, one eyebrow lifting slowly, "Hawke? Logan Hawke?"

\------

So the logical course of action was to talk to the guy, right, that was how he got out of this weird dream-hallucination-fantasy-whatever. 

Logan didn't stop to think too hard about that reasoning, or he would have definitely decided that was his id speaking, not his rational brain. He descended slowly towards the stranger and found himself reaching for the man when he stumbled. 

"Hey, you o-" he started to ask, and then the guy opened his mouth and _holy shit_ Logan had died and gone to heaven, that was it, that was definitely it, because that was Anders' absolutely sinful voice attached to that absurdly attractive face (and...body...) and he was saying Logan's _name_.

"Anders?" Logan breathed.

\------

Anders started to laugh. He put his hand over his eyes and bent forward, other hand on his knee to keep from falling forward and braining himself on the steps, which given how off-balance he felt could entirely still happen, and just cackled with laughter. 

"Oh, no, this is too-- I mean, yes, I have a nervous breakdown after the worst o-chem exam in the history of anything, sure, yes after an all nighter, definitely. But seriously, what the bloody hell is wrong with me?" His shoulders were shaking as he laughed, gasping words out between near convulsions of it. "Hallucinating _Hawke_ with a face that's out of any reasonable man's wet dream? For fuck's sake, get it together.

\------

Any thoughts about grabbing Anders (holy shit) by the front of his shirt and just kissing the shit out of him (not the first time the thought had occurred, and undoubtedly not the last) were derailed by the man's abrupt cackling. 

"Um," Logan said, feeling the urge to grip his shoulder in solidarity, or...something?

Up until the wet dream comment, at which point Logan huffed. And felt his cheeks darken. 

"Look, Blondie," he said, using Varric's nickname for maximum interrupting effect, and attempting to scowl at him (it didn't work, not even remotely, how could anyone ever glare at that face, dear _god_ ). "Weird - sex dream - fantasy - version that you are, you're not really one to talk, you know?"

At which point he noticed the blisters on Anders' hands and conveniently forgot to remember that this version of Anders was definitely the product of his overeager imagination.

"What the fuck happened to your hands, Anders?" he demanded, grabbing the one on his knee.

\------

Anders wasn't even that blond, though his character definitely was. He snorted, rolling his eyes, and then gaped at Hawke when he called _him_ a sex dream fantasy. What? "What?" No, honestly, what? 

He got as far as nearly saying 'what' again when Hawke grabbed his hand, hissing at the pain of contact. "Ah. Shit. Fire?" He almost ran his other hand through the long mop of his hair but with blisters on that one as well he thought better of it, holding it out in front of him and peering at it when he turned it over and then back. "I was on fire. Briefly. There was a pond too." 

He shifted his gaze to Hawke, realizing how close he was, and once again taken by how fucking beautiful his brain had made him. "I think..." His low level shivering had turned into a more aggressive shuddering. "I think I can _fix_ it." 

The wondering realization that bloomed in Anders eyes made them gleam gold even in the sickly green light of the sky. The hand that Hawke was holding washed with a cool blue-green light, healing the burns with almost no effort and the magic washed along the skin contact, easing away the bruises that Anders didn't even know about along Hawke's ribs.

\------

"You were on _what_?" Logan fumed, his grip on Anders' hand loosening immediately when Anders hissed in pain. He narrowed his eyes at the other man and then whapped him on the back of the skull on reflex. 

And promptly regretted that action, staring in some shock at his own hand. He played it off as cool as he could. "How many times am I gonna have to threaten to lock you up somewhere so you take better care of yourself, huh?" he muttered, making a show of studying Anders' hand intently. He cleared his throat.

Logan's blue eyes went right back to Anders' face at the mention of fixing, and then stayed there, because Logan wasn't even sure eyes were really that color in real life. They weren't just light brown, they were actually gold. Which was fitting, he supposed - in his dreams, the man he'd been uselessly pining over would have unobtainable eyes the color of a precious metal. Fucking figured.

He touched his side tentatively when the light and healing magic washed over him too, and realized he could stand a little straighter than he had been without pain. He whistled, still staring sappily into Anders' eyes.

\------

The tap on the back of Anders head had hardly registered when it happened, his own fascination with the fact that he knew he could _heal_ himself, and Hawke, but after a moment he realized what had happened with a small grunt.

He rubbed the back of his head, small frown disgruntled until he saw the look Hawke was giving him, and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "You know, I don't think I'd fantasize about you slapping me on the back of the head."

\------

Logan gave him a suspicious look, because if he was questioning whether or not this really was a fantasy, that meant Anders really was right in front of him and absolutely gorgeous, and that would be just setting himself up for disappointment really, so Logan couldn't bring himself to accept it.

He cleared his throat again and looked away, one part of his brain registering that he sure was acting like this was real even if he was pretending he didn't believe it. 

"Force of habit," he said. "My brother being a tit, and all."

\------

The next wave of shivers swept over Anders, stronger than before. He shook his head, and sighed. "Okay, so here's the thing, Hawke. Logan. Either this is an elaborate exam-induced hallucination because, as you say, I don't take care of myself... or something has happened that neither of us can explain." 

He reached out, gripping Hawke's shoulder, long, graceful fingers curling dangerously close to the skin at the back of Hawke's neck. "I'm in shock, and if this is a hallucination, I might be dying in my apartment, alone. If it isn't, well, I'd rather not die here either. So, if you're real, but just like a voice on my headset listening to me rave, please call emergency services for me? Varric has my contacts. But if you're real and actually here, can we go sit down out of the wind, because..." He trailed off, looking into those magnetic blue eyes. "Because I'd like to not die before I got to kiss you."

\------

Logan was appalled. "You're not allowed to die on me, Anders," he insisted, his hand coming up to grasp at Anders' delicate wrist. "You're not." There was a freshly panicky note in his voice at the very thought of it, and Logan shuddered, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the strange new power still contained inside his body. He felt it roil under his skin in response to his emotions, and there was an electric charge between Logan's hand and Anders' skin, much stronger than a normal shock of static electricity. Logan jerked back, away from Anders, his heel catching on the step behind him.

He managed not to fall, but barely, and then he screwed up his face in a look of concentration, a muscle twitching in his jaw, and somehow managed to feel out the edges of the magic flickering around him and over him and _shove_ it back inside, because Anders _needed_ him, and now was not the time to be accidentally shooting people full of lightning. He had little doubt in his mind that that was what it was that he had felt, his penchant for lightning, because if Anders could heal and Logan could summon stone armor and lightning, they were definitely channeling the same magic their characters did in the game. So that was one puzzle solved. Ish. 

"No dying," he very nearly growled, reaching for Anders again. "That castle thing looks warm, okay? We're gonna walk over there." He touched Anders' arm tentatively, asking permission to take it. 

They were starting on their way to somewhere less windy when Logan finally registered the fact that Anders had said he wanted to kiss him, and he stumbled and nearly fell. Again.

\------

Anders definitely felt better with Logan touching him he realized. When his wrist had been in his grasp: good. When he'd recoiled due to magic (and didn't that seem like the most ridiculous thing he could think of) arcing between them: bad. 

But when he gripped Anders' arm through the wool cardigan that was still damp, though not soaked, that was okay. They walked toward the keep in silence for a few dozen yards when Hawke got tangled up in his own feet and nearly fell. 

"Shit. Are you okay?" Anders slid an arm around Logan's waist to steady him, suddenly feeling lanky and weirdly gangly in order to do that.

\------

Logan focused on the slick damp of the dewy grass beneath their feet in an effort to not trip over his own feet again and worried at his bottom lip. Anders' arm around his waist felt impossibly wonderful and Logan had to remember to keep breathing normally. He leaned into Anders' side because he couldn't not, though he tried to make the action not too noticeable. 

"You said..." he kept his eyes on his feet. "You said you wanted to kiss me."

\------

"Did I?" Anders looked sidelong at Logan. He couldn't help but tighten his grip on the other man as they approached the threshold. He could excuse it. That was easy. 

He was shocky and needed warmth, and Logan - Hawke, dammit - was obviously unsteady if he kept looking at his feet. 

"Well, you know me. I talk. A lot. About all sorts of things." He licked his lips. Shit. If this was real and this was really Logan Hawke then... maybe he had ruined one of the best friendships he'd ever had?

\------

Logan looked up at him sharply and then stopped leaning so close. 

"Yeah," he said quietly, so soft that Anders probably had to struggle to hear him, "I know. I'm sure that was it."

He was really, really terrible at hiding the disappointment in his voice. Really. He sounded crushed, and promptly went back to staring fixedly at the ground again.

\------

The sudden change in Logan's manner made Anders stop once they were inside the warmth. He was still shuddering but just the contact had cleared some of the wooliness of his head. 

And now that he could think he knew he'd done something. Saying he wanted to kiss him? Yeah, that... that was terrible. 

He let Hawke go as they eased into the warmer air, sliding his arm out from around his waist. 

"So, castles, right?" There were fitful spots of color in his cheeks, and he wandered down the great hall, past long tables and empty chairs toward the fireplace at one end. Could he? Well why the fuck not. He focused, flicked his wrist, and sent a small pile of flames sailing into the empty hearth with a soft _whoomp_.

\------

The loss of Anders' arm around him cut more than Logan expected, and he mentally berated himself for a fool. Clearly they had been friends for a long time and clearly if Anders and his stupid-fantastic voice had ever been interested in Logan, it would have come up a long time ago. It was an old argument, one he told himself over and over again whenever his brain started going too wild and fantasizing about stupid things like _actually being with someone again_ or _having a boyfriend instead of his mother to come home to_ or _Anders' lips right next to his ear and that voice whispering dirty things to him as Anders stroked him off_ or...

Logan let out a rather undignified choked off noise and forced himself to think about something else for possibly the millionth time. Except now he was trailing down a giant great hall after Anders, which afforded him a really nice view of Anders' ass, and then Anders did this wiggly finger thing and actually cast real, fucking actual flames into a fireplace, and Logan was pretty sure he was screwed.

This was becoming more and more clearly neither a hallucination nor a dream because if he would have hallucinated Anders mentioning kissing him, he would have definitely taken him up on that and probably used the excuse of shock and cold to cozy up to the man in a very Varric esque 'so we should probably be naked, spreads body heat faster' sort of line, and that clearly wasn't happening. Instead Anders was brushing the comment off like he'd said nothing at all and so this was very clearly _real_ because that is exactly what would have happened. 

In the event they got dragged to some mysterious castle and given magical powers. Because that was totally likely.

\------

Anders turned away from the fire to find Logan - _Hawke_ \- looking at him with a... well what was that face? Mournful puppy? Baleful duckling? But it seemed kind of sorrowful, whatever it was. 

Which made sense. Anders would be disappointed in himself too. 

He ran his hand through his hair, causing the too-long strands to stand up in crazy disarray, and then shucked his damps cardigan off his shoulders and spread it out on hooks that were on the sides of the huge hearth, away from the primary blaze of heat. 

He wished he could take the shirt, vest, or trousers off. "You know what I wish?" He quirked an eyebrow at Hawke. "That I had changed into soething reasonably comfortable when I got home." He plucked at the drying linen of the vest with a wrinkled nose.

\------

Logan bit his lip hard enough to draw blood at the sight of all that ruffled ridiculous hair and the pseudo professor look underneath Anders' cardigan and the way his damp clothes clung a bit to Anders' lithe frame...

He took it back, he was definitely in hell.

"Yeah, well," he said, in a voice mostly steady from a long time of making it be so when it came to this man, "why am I not surprised you didn't?"

He raised both eyebrows challengingly and couldn't quite supress the small grin playing at his mouth. 

He himself was in an old, somewhat ratty pair of gray jeans, worn enough to be comfortable, and a plain black hoodie, one he'd gotten cheap recently enough for the insides to still be mostly soft.

\------

Anders looked down his nose at Hawke in that way that only tall people with long noses can manage to do with people who aren't shorter than them. "You are such a mother hen." 

He shook his head slowly, trying not to flush, because he didn't need to look like even more of an idiot in front of this man (if it was in fact Hawke) as he dragged a chair closer to the fire. He hesitated over a second one, low and solid and with expensive cushions. 

It was too short to be comfortable, as if it were scaled for a... dwarf. He huffed out a short laugh. "Of course." But he scooped the cushions out of it and threw them down in front of the blazing hearth. That was about as close as he could get without actually being inside it, and well... he'd had plenty of actually setting himself on fire for one day. 

He folded himself down onto one of the cushions, legs bent and arms around them, trying to stop the shivering, and looked back up at Logan. He was... big. Broader than Anders had ever considered, incredibly fit. Beautiful. He looked back at the fire, flushing, whatever he'd intended to say (an invitation to join him seemed likely, but he'd probably never know now) completely gone.

\------

"So you've said," Logan agreed, looking immensely amused by Anders' efforts to look down his nose at him. 

He stuck his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie and tried not to look as awkward as he felt as he watched Anders tugging chairs around and throwing cushions on the ground. He frowned. Anders was still shivering, and his cheeks were really red and blotchy, like he was feverish or something. If he was in shock - which seemed likely, Anders was the almost-doc here after all, so if he said he was in shock, he definitely was - all that wet clothing was not helping. At all. 

Logan knelt on the extra cushion next to Anders, and put a hand on his shoulder. He squeezed briefly and then reached for the hem of his hoodie. 

"Take off your shirt," he said, in a tone that brooked no argument, though it was really too gentle to be called a command. He tugged his hoodie off over his head, the white t-shirt underneath riding up to expose brown skin and strong hipbones and toned abs. The shirt itself, when revealed, read 'I'M HAWKE' in blocky letters - part of a set that Varric had shipped out to everybody in the guild a while back, mostly as a joke. Everyone else's read the usual 'IF FOUND RETURN TO HAWKE'.

\------

The hand on Anders shoulder caused him to startle, though the heavy, broad warmth of it felt amazing. How had Logan gotten so close without him noticing? He really was out of it. But not so far gone that when Hawke's... suggestion to take off his shirt came he didn't respond, automatically, "You didn't even buy me dinner fir--" 

The sight of Logan stripping off his hoodie was enough to make Anders' mouth water, and to immediately regret the ridiculous flirtatious tone. And then the rest of his brain caught up and he realized what was happening. He was probably about to be bodily stuffed inside Logan's sweatshirt when he protested. 

"No, Hawke, you'll get cold, and I'm fine. It's mostly dry already because of the fire and..." He finally realized what t-shirt the other man was wearing and broke off, flush getting deeper. He wore the matching shirt almost every night to bed. It was getting ratty at the shoulder seams from so much wear and wash. Thank all that was holy he hadn't been in his pajamas when this whole... thing had started.

\------

"You're not _fine_ ," Logan said in exasperation, his hands caught up in the mostly removed hoodie. If anything, he looked more ill and more feverish now, and while the flush did do interesting things to his face, Logan was definitely above admiring the effect while Anders was so clearly not well. He pulled his hands free and put the back of one to Anders' forehead, frowning at how clammy he felt. 

"Shirt. Off." Logan gestured. He reached to tug the hem of his own shirt back into place, finally glancing down at it and remembering what he'd tossed on under the sweater. He let out a huff of laughter, because of course he would be wearing that one.

"I'll be fine. I'm not the one who's all wet. And you conveniently already started a nice blazing fire for us, so it's all good." He held out his sweater and waited with a pointedly arched brow for Anders to hand over his wet clothing, adding carelessly after a pause, "I'll buy you dinner later, if you're really that torn up about it."

Shit. Why had he said that. Why.

\------

The sigh Anders gave Logan was long-suffering and familiar. He'd heard it dozens of times after nagging Anders into making a sandwich before the next pull in a dungeon. Similarly, Anders knew the stubborn note in Hawke's tone and there was no chance he was going to out-mulish the man, especially when he was probably right. 

"I'm going to hold you to that. Dinner _and_ drinks." He wasn't sure when the last time he'd blushed this hard was. 

It was just, in not one of Anders' fantasies about taking his shirt off in front of Logan Hawke had it ever been this strange, and this... embarrassing. 

He looked away, half turning, not really wanting to present his back, but also feeling too vulnerable to be facing. He pulled open the buttons on the vest and slipped it off, tossing it into the empty chair, and then quickly ran the top few buttons of his shirt before grabbing it by the back of the neckhole and pulling it off over his head. 

The wet fabric was stickier than he'd anticipated and he had to wriggle a little to get his arms out. He was lean bordering on skinny, all angles and bones and ropey muscle without any fat to hide it. He there were a few spots that white lines of scars were visible on his ribs, old and silver and faded. They could be stretch marks... that's what he told himself anyway, that no one would know what they meant when they saw them unless he told them. Especially if he kept his back angled away.

\------

Logan smiled faintly, and just a touch smugly, at Anders' sigh. He looked down politely when Anders turned away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, and used the moment as an excuse to actually settle down on the cushion underneath him. He shifted his legs out in front of him and then tucked one ankle behind the opposite knees, his hands falling to rest partially in his lap and partially draped over the crooked knee. 

When he looked back at Anders, the man was still fighting his way out of his shirt, and Logan had a wild urge to put his hands on his back and help tug him out of it. For about half a second. Which he then squashed. The wiggling was distracting, however, and Logan couldn't help stare at the lean, pale muscle on display, and - were those...scars? He made a mental note to ask about them later.

...no, scratch that, there wasn't any universe in which Anders would feel comfortable with Logan going 'hey man, so what's that?' and poking at his ribs. _Don't be a creep. Jesus_. he scolded himself, swallowing hard. His cheeks darkened.

\------

Anders finally reemerged from the shirt. The flush was going to become a permanent fixture of his skin he thought, as it crept down his chest. He took picked u the sweatshirt hesitantly, having to fight the urge to bury his face in it and breath in. He wanted to know what Logan smelled like. 

Well, now he would get his chance, he supposed. He fluffed it open with a little flourish and then tugged it on in one swift motion. His hair bounced and flopped when his head popped through and he grimaced as he looked down. "Well. It's certainly large enough." He was swimming in it, but at least he was spared the indignity of the sleeves covering his hands like he was a child. "You said you grew up on farms, but honestly, Logan, what are they feeding you?" 

His teeth nearly clicked shut at the end, because he'd meant it to be teasing, but it had come out flirty. Appreciative. A little arch. Anders flirted with absolutely everyone in the guild (except for Fenris) so it wasn't too weird, he hoped. It just felt different with Hawke right there, and as stunning as he'd turned out to be.

\------

Logan laughed, a warm, loud soud that seemed to boom from the center of his chest. He lowered his lashes somewhat so it wouldn't look like he was admiring the way _his_ sweater, oversized though it was, looked on _Anders_. That was definitely the stuff of his fantasies, right there, which he perhaps should have thought of before he handed off his hoodie. Not that he would have then retracted the offer. 

He leaned back with his hands behind him. "Oh, you know. Grass-fed beef. Hearty biscuits and gravy. That sort of thing." He grinned and then shook his head self-deprecatingly. "Nah, whatever is cheap and Carver doesn't eat first, really."

\------

"And is Carver as... developed as you are?" Anders hooked his arms around his knees, quirking an eyebrow at Logan as he smirked. He couldn't imagine what that must cost to feed.

He hunched his shoulders a little so that that he could nestle the hood up around his ears. He turned his head, resting his face on his shoulder, and peered over at Hawke. This had the added benefit of being able to breath in the scent of Logan's soap without looking like a complete weirdo by sniffing the sweatshirt he'd just been forced to wear.

\------

"He - hrr - erm - eh," Logan sputtered. Was Anders seriously asking him about how ripped his brother was? Seriously? He wasn't sure whether to be flattered at the obvious compliment of himself or jealous that Anders cared what Carver looked like, so he settled for a weird, confused, stammering mix of both emotions. "Yees? Well, more probably, but barely, and don't you dare tell him I said so. I'm taller though," he said, with some superiority. This had clearly been a talking point at his house.

\------

Anders blinked at Logan's sudden consternation. What had he... oh. Oh, no. "No. I mean, yes, er no I won't tell him, but I'm not-- I'm not _asking_ about your _brother_." 

He snorted and muttered, "Besides, if I've ever heard a straighter voice over a headset than Carver's I'll eat my vest." 

Anders shot Hawke a sidelong look, trying to hold in the sigh. He'd already freaked Logan out with talk of kissing him, and now he'd made him think he was interested to Anders of all people, and there wasn't a ladder tall enough to get him out of this hole he'd dug. It was humiliating. The one thing he would have given anything to have happen, meet Hawke in person, and he was being a complete idiot. 

Extenuating circumstances maybe, but still.

\------

Logan said, "Oh," and held in a sigh of relief, because that would have been _way_ obvious. He shot Anders a small smile instead. 

At the muttered comment, though, Logan scrunched up his nose in agreement and exhaled noisily and said, "Well, at least _one_ of us is."

His blue eyes widened when that came out and he caught his breath and froze. Well. Well, _shit_.

\------

Anders had always wondered, but to hear it confirmed... did that make it better? Or worse? Better because there was a chance, or could have been... worse because if Logan was interested in Anders it would have come up by now. 

He watched Logan with a slight, crooked smile, eyes a little sad. "You know it doesn't bother me, right? I mean I'm--" He shifted, looking back at the fire. "I volunteer at the queer student union. Big old bi-guy here." He tensed, waiting for Logan's to be weird about that, if he was going to be patronizing or act like he was actually straight, or just gross.

\------

"You're - you're... oh." 

What had he been expecting? After that wet dream comment? Straight guys didn't say shit like that. Some of them _did_ flirt with everything on two legs, true, but it was mostly in a mocking way when it came to other men, as if even that had to prove how secure they were in their heterosexuality, and that wasn't ever how Anders had come across. 

But Logan hadn't wanted to assume, had in fact been afraid to assume. It was easier to believe that Anders was straight and Logan had never had any chance with him than to admit that the possibility was there and Anders simply had never been interested. 

He looked down, picking at a loose thread at the hem of his t-shirt, unable to meet Anders' gaze. It _hurt_ , way fucking more than it should have, to hear what he might have had confirmed, a heavy sort of choking feeling that made thinking difficult and his limbs feel wooden. If he'd ever been able to pretend his feelings for Anders were superficial, that lie was gone now, ripped out from underneath him like a rug, his last vestige of support torn away. 

"I mean, I wanted - I _wished_ ," he began, hardly aware of what he was saying for the pounding in his chest. _I'm in love with him. I've been in love with him for forever._ "Well. It doesn't matter now." He swallowed thickly. "That's...cool, Anders. It's cool."

It was most certainly not cool.

\------

"If I'd known my biphobia-is-bad lecture was going to be required, I would have packed that. Along with my robe and wizard hat," Anders muttered sharply, raking his hands through his hair. He grabbed his shirt and shook it out, frustrated that it wasn't dry, hands almost shaking he was so angry. 

He'd had plenty of guys be disappointed or repulsed when he'd explained it, but he really hadn't thought Logan would be one of them. And he sounded so dejected at the idea, like now that it was confirmed they wouldn't even be friends anymore? Well fucking done, Anders. 

And of all the asinine things to be worried about while they were sitting in a castle and had apparently developed magical powers, he was thinking about how the man he'd been secretly pining over for ages, was a gold-star-gay bigot. He snorted a harsh, near-laugh, and shook his head.

\------

The bitter laugh and Anders' comment were enough to cut through the fog of self-centered wallowing and grief and the voice nagging _Holy shit, you really fucked up this time, Hawke, falling so badly for a friend who never wanted you - that's a new low, that's worse than driving off the only other man you loved because you were a fucking coward, that's - jesus, how desperate are you, anyways._

He shook his head, startled out of it. "What?" he said hoarsely, staring at Anders with wide blue eyes. "What? No, fuck, Anders, that's not what I-" He covered his face with his hands and slumped, groaning. "Shit. I am an asshole."

He could have kicked himself. Should, probably. "Look, you're bi, I'm gay, we're all queer here. At least you're, you know, out and helping other people with it. I'm, jesus, I'm 24 years old and I'm still hiding it from my mother." 

His cheeks darkened. Great. Let's just spill all his embarrassing secrets about how absolutely he failed at everything. Why not.

\------

That made Anders blink, both the explanation and the admission he wasn't out at home, and he winced slightly at his own jumping to the worst possible conclusion. "But you seemed upset?" He tilted his head, eyes worried. 

"And hey, Logan, not everybody can come out all at once, you know? It isn't always safe, and... not that I know anything about your mother, but..." He shrugged. "Don't doubt yourself for doing what's right for you." 

He reached out a tentative hand and touched Hawke's bare forearm, just a light squeeze. He wasn't sure if that would be welcome or... but he was upset now, and Anders had been an ass because he was scared, and heart-sore, and none of this made any sense at all.

\------

Logan stared down at Anders' hand as he touched him, watching him squeeze his arm and then pull away, and when Anders' hand was gone, Logan reached and touched the skin he'd just touched greedily, wonderingly. He hugged his arms to himself to cover the motion. Anders had been worried about him being cold. He could just play it off as that. Yeah.

"I - it wasn't about the bi thing," he mumbled, vaguely, watching the flames, and then changed the subject. 

"My mom's not that bad. It's just, after Dad died, she couldn't stay on the farm anymore, not without him, so when Carver and Bethany graduated, she and Carver moved in with me. And they're still...living with me." He glanced at Anders. "I don't mind, really; I can look after her better this way, and Beth has someplace to come when she's on break where we all are, but she keeps trying to - to hook me up with girls as a thank-you, or...something? And I just, I don't really want to have to come out while she's still living with me, because it's going to be awkward and messy and she's going to cry about the no grandbabies from me and it's just...it'll be better when she's settled enough to be back on her own, and I've got some distance, and...yeah."

"I mean, it's not like three, four years ago when I was working with all those super straight farmhands - that wouldn't have been safe, like you said. So Varric thinks I'm just putting it off, now. And maybe he's right, I don't know."

\------

Anders could be a terrible, self-centered shit. He knew that, had a way of blustering over people when he thought he knew best. But part of the reason for that was he honestly wanted the best for people, and seeing Hawke struggle with this, it made his heart hurt. 

"You're lonely." 

It seemed kind of impossible that Hawke, generous, affable, funny, kind, with his family, his and Varric's company, how drop-dead gorgeous he was, that he could be lonely. Not like Anders, shut up in his apartment, darting from class to class, refusing to date because of the man sitting next to him. It made sense for him, because he usually couldn't speak to regular people without getting in a fight. 

But Logan? He swallowed hard. If he could be the one to... but that wasn't going to happen. Besides, they were sitting here talking about Logan's family situation when they were... fucked. Completely fucked in a nightmare castle, with magic, and where there was magic there was probably monsters.

\------

Logan went very still, darting a glance at Anders. He wet his lips.

"Is it that obvious?" he said, with a splintered sort of laugh that tried to brush off his loneliness as _really not that big of a deal_ , and failed. 

"It's - it's okay. Really. I'm either demiromantic or greyromantic, I haven't decided, but I don't fall for people very easily, or often, you know, and so it's, it's fine. I mean, the only guy I've wanted at all in four years is - he's not interested, which is fine, I just, I need to get over it. I'm just really shitty at that."

\------

Anders stared at Logan like he was suddenly speaking French. "That-- that doesn't make any sense. He would have to be literally the stupidest person in the entire world to not want to be with you." It stung to know there was someone that Hawke wanted, but he kind of wanted to punch that guy in the face for making him look so sad.

\------

Okay. So whatever Logan had expected Anders to say to the awkward half-revelation of his feelings, it hadn't been that. His brow furrowed slightly. Anders _sounded_ jealous, but that couldn't be right, not after all his hedging about the kissing comment earlier, and, well, everything else. Maybe he was pulling that usual good-friend stance, the one where you assure them that anyone should want them even if you personally don't, because you like them as a person and think they deserve nice things.

Anders thinking he deserved good things was a very pleasant thought, entirely too pleasant really. Logan was beginning to feel a sort of emotional whiplash, and decided it would be better to heap more fuel on his 'get over it already' fire.

"Why, are you jealous?" he asked, grinning slightly, bracing himself for the answer to be no.

\------

The answer was yes. Yes, especially when Logan gave him that grin, teasing him. The sharp sting became larger and Anders' smile was tight and irritated when he pulled a face at Logan. "Not as if it would matter to anyone if I was." 

He turned his shirt over where it was spread out in front of the fire. The thin fabric was drying quickly, and then he'd be able to get out of the sweatshirt, away from the maddening scent that was going to haunt his dreams for the rest of his bloody life. 

"Good job that'd be, right? You're grey-aro, hung up on some idiot, while I'm mooning after you? Worst love triangle ever. I'd be a stalker." Fuck. He was a stalker. He closed his eyes, cheeks flooding with fitufl color, mouth stretching in a pained grimace.

\------

Logan was trying really, really hard to not let any of these statements get his hopes up, because if he let that happen and it still turned out Anders wasn't interested, that would hurt worse, and Logan wasn't sure how much more he could actually take.

But unless he was completely reading the situation wrong (and how logical was he when it came to Anders, really, so that was not only possible but probable), Anders definitely seemed jealous. Upset. Unhappy. 

Logan reached out and laid a hand over Anders' arm tentatively, squashing the warm half-hope in his chest violently.

"It wouldn't be a triangle," he said, voice soft.

\------

The hand on his arm startled Anders, and he looked over at Logan with raised eyebrows. Now there was the vaguest possibility that Hawke was suggesting some kind of triad, where Anders was the no-romo leg in a very strangely wobbly stool. And if he was anyone else having this conversation, he might buy it. 

But this was Logan, sweet, and protective, and seemed to have not one functioning casual bone in his amazing body, who Anders had confessed wanting to kiss, and then... oh he was an idiot. He put a hand over his eyes and groaned aloud. "I said I wanted to kiss you. And you weren't aghast at all. You were surprised, weren't you?"

\------

Logan kept his hand where it was, his brow furrowing. Aghast? Had Anders thought he was aghast? He had nearly fallen on his face with surprise. He had thought it was pretty obvious.

"Should...I not have been?" he tried.

\------

"You _should_ probably be aghast. I'm a real nightmare of a kisser. Greedy, just want to do it for hours once I get started. It's horrifying, really." Anders was babbling. He was doing that thing where his mouth was taking over for the fact that his brain had completely lost the reins. Because he was thinking about kissing Logan. For hours at a time.

\------

Logan rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand, glancing at Anders' mouth and then back up. He swallowed.

"I don't see the problem here," he said, and his voice was steady, even a bit cheeky, but his eyes on Anders' face were wide, because he was pretty sure Anders was talking about wanting to kiss him, for hours, and he was a little terrified he was going to wake up any second now.

\------

"Logan." Anders said his name breathlessly, looking at his mouth then up at his amazing blue eyes. "If this turns out to be a dream I'm going to murder my own brain." He smiled with a little shake of his head, eyes glinting. "With a leftover pair of chopsticks from that takeout you _insisted_ I order last Friday." 

All that mothering he did... was that because he felt like Anders did? But he did that to everyone, didn't he?

\------

Logan leaned forward, his hand trailing up over Anders' arm in his hoodie to brush the backs of the first knuckles on his hand against Anders' jaw, the touch still tentative, wondering, not quite sure he was _allowed_.

He looked distressed by the very idea.

"Please don't. I rather like your brain."

\------

"Yeah?" Anders turned his face ever-so-slightly into Logan's hand. He wanted to do more. He wanted to climb into his lap and kiss him until he fainted from lack of air. He really wanted this to be real and not a complete nervous breakdown, dream, or some other hallucinatory type experience. 

"It's super sexy, isn't it? All kinds of sulci and gyri." Oh good, he was still doing that. He really needed to stop with the word-vomit. "Normally I get complimented on my hair, but you went straight for the brain. Clever." Or he could keep on with it. "I'm really nervous and it's making me blurt. I'm a blurter. You knew that right? Please tell me you knew that."

\------

Logan's lips curved, his smile warm and soft, and he was probably looking at Anders' with the mushiest bedroom eyes ever because he was a dork, but he couldn't help it, he literally could not stop himself. 

"I'm going to pretend I know what those words mean," he said, encouraged enough to trace his fingers higher and brush them through the hair over Anders' ear. "I like your hair too."

He tilted his head and regarded Anders without stopping the motion of his fingers through Anders' hair. "I knew that," he agreed, amused.

\------

"They're the folds and valleys in the cerebral cortex of the human brain, which isn't something you care the least bit about." Anders' eyes fluttered shut as Logan's fingers combed into his hair, and the opened again a moment later. "So on a scale of velociraptor attack to Tinkerbell kidnaps you to save Neverland, where would you put what's happening now on the scale of unexpected?" A scale that was also made up of impossible things. 

This still didn't seem real. 

Anders lifted his hand reached over to trace the lettering on Logan's shirt, thinking of his matching one. _If lost_ , well this sort of counted? And here he was, returned safely (relatively) to Hawke.

\------

"Uh...Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent finally admit they have the hots for each other and make out?" That was about the level of incredulity Logan was at right now. 

...Except that sounded like he was comparing the two of them to Superman and Batman, and he wasn't entirely sure that sent the right message. He cleared his throat. "Not that - we're - quite that cool, but...you know what I mean." He looked down, feeling his face go hot.

He went very still when Anders reached out to touch his shirt, breathing shallowly so as to not disturb him. This was driving him mad, the need to touch, the way Anders hand was right there on his chest and his face had such a contemplative look, one that Logan didn't quite understand, but wanted to, very badly. 

He trembled slightly and sat on his free hand to prevent himself from bodily hauling Anders into his lap.

\------

"Well, you might be Clark Kentish, but I'm no Bruce Wayne." That honestly was meant as a compliment and Anders wrinkled his nose at how it sounded. His smile was a little sly as he shifted his focus back up to Logan's face. "You think I'm hot." There was a little lilt, a little tease in that, but not much question. 

His hand flattened on Logan's chest, over his heart, long clever fingers splayed out, palm warm and flush against his shirt. Not pushing, just pressing. Maker, he was muscular, thick and strong, and Anders had to resist the impulse to pet him. It was really, really hard.

\------

"I do - have the glasses, at least." Logan glanced down at his chest where he'd rehooked them into his shirt after taking off his hoodie to hand to Anders. 

"I-" he started, and his breath hitched when Anders pressed his whole hand to Logan's chest. " _God_ , yes," he groaned in frustration. "I thought you were hot before I even knew what you looked like, Anders, and now--" He yanked his hand out from under his leg and ran his fingers through his curls abruptly, inhaling shakily. It was painfully obvious how attracted to him Logan really was, from the way his eyes kept darting over Anders' face and lips and the fact that Logan was practically twitching to keep from touching him. Also incredibly embarrassing, but Logan couldn't stop. Anders had to know... "You are quite possibly the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my life, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need you to stop me before I do something drastic here like...kiss you for hours." 

His lips quirked, but judging by his tone, he was perfectly serious.

\------

"You're relying on my executive function to keep us from drastic behavior?" Anders slid his hand up to Hawke's broad shoulder and then cupped the side of his neck, brushed his thumb along the edge of his jaw. "I was dumped in a freezing pond and then set myself on fire." 

He wet his lips as Logan's eyes darted to them, and smiled crookedly. "Which is to say, I don't think I want to stop you from doing something drastic."

\------

Logan drew in a breath, curving his head towards Anders hand where it lingered on his neck and jaw. His skin felt like it was on fire where Anders was touching him, and he most definitely did not want him to ever stop. 

"Now you tell me," he huffed, reaching to hook his fingers in the front of his hoodie and tug Anders towards him. He cupped his cheek and leaned forward and pressed his lips to Anders', tentative, just the barest hint of pressure really, before he moved back a fraction and waited for Anders to pull away. And he would, wouldn't he? Logan was definitely dreaming or making this shit up. He held his breath.

\------

Anders went willingly when Logan pulled him forward, eyelashes dipping, but eyes staying on him as he came closer to kiss. He got a little crease between his brows at the tiny press, eyes shifting rapidly over Logan's face. 

Had he changed his mind? Anders felt like he was going to go mad, hovering there, and with a surge, he clasped both his hands to Hawke's head, and kisses him hard, lips parted, mouth warm and wet, practically pleading. A gentle lap of his tongue on Logan's lower lip, another along the seam, and then he drew back, cheeks flushed bright. 

Too much? Please all the gods in all the world, please let him not have come on too strong.

\------

Logan gasped, the remaining air from the breath he still hadn't let out escaping his lungs all at once as Anders kissed him, and he leaned in greedily, lips parted, pressing, lingering, _hungry_ , and this time when Anders drew back Logan let out a needy whine of protest. He fisted his hand in the front of the hoodie and tugged him back, hard, leaning forward to kiss him again, and again. They were brief, at first, sloppy, because it had been years since Logan had kissed anyone. He was sure he seemed out of practice, inept even, but he couldn't bring himself to stop or care, because it was Anders, and he had wanted to kiss him for so damn long.

His other hand reached around Anders' waist and spread against the small of his back, encouraging him closer, and then Logan tilted his head just slightly and oh, that was it, the slide of their lips together smooth and right and sure and Logan parted his mouth to touch the tip of his tongue to the center of Anders' upper lip.

\------

Anders didn't care how messy it was, it was perfect. Logan was perfect. 

The moment it turned _good_ though, when Logan's hand nudged him closer, and their mouths found the rhythm, and he felt the tender touch of that tongue, Anders let out a shaky moan. It was loud enough he startled himself, eyes widening, blush deepening, but he wasn't going to stop for a little thing like embarrassment, not now. 

He parted his lips, flicked his tongue across the tip of Logan's, and slid his hand around to the back of his head to urge him on. His other hand found Logan's stomach, pressing his hand against the hard muscle there the same way he had to his chest.

\------

Logan was on fire, heat blossoming at every point on his body where Anders touched him; it spread across his skin, settled in the pit of his stomach and lower still. And that moan, god, he was undone. It was everything, it was Anders in his arms, touching him, kissing him, _wanting_ him back, and Logan wanted more, wanted to lose himself in Anders' mouth and never be found. 

He gripped him tighter, pulling Anders flush to his chest, and their noses brushed as Logan parted his lips further and slipped his tongue in Anders' mouth, sliding greedily into the damp warmth and tangling with Anders' tongue.

\------

When Logan pulled him even closer, Anders shifted round and straddled his lap, long legs letting him kneel on either side of Logan's hips. He grinned as he settled across his thighs, still kissing, slick tongue licking into Hawke's willing mouth.

He pulled back just enough to breath and whisper, "Shit, Logan, how-- how is this even happening?" He kissed him again, both hands sliding up his chest and then around his neck. Whatever the fuck was going on with falling into ponds in the dark, finding empty castles, having _magic_ , this was exactly where he wanted to be.

\------

Logan inhaled, more a gasp than anything, when Anders settled into his lap, and his hand still wrapped up in the hoodie fell to grasp at Anders' waist, strong fingers biting into the extra fabric and gripping hard. 

"Fuck, Anders, I don't - I don't even care, love, I just..." His voice was low with arousal, surprisingly deep and growly, and he ground his hips up against Anders' welcome weight in his lap. "...need you..." He tilted his head back and let Anders do whatever he wanted to his mouth, gasped, "want you, _fuck_ " and it wasn't just Anders who babbled because Logan was sure he was talking too much but god, he wanted so much and he wanted Anders to know how much he wanted him, and he didn't give a shit about magic or castles or anything else at the moment.

\------

When Logan said the word 'love' Anders gave a soft exhalation, not quite a gasp or a sigh. It was like it made his heart too large and he didn't have that much room in his chest for breath anymore. He tipped Logan's head back further, licked into his mouth again, rocking his hips in subtle shifts as he did. 

It wasn't enough, between his damp pants and Logan's jeans, it was more tease than anything, but even that was good, because it was _Logan_ under him as he wriggled and rutted. 

"God, Logan, how can you be so perfect? You're like a dream." He left his mouth, to kiss his jawline, his perfect throat. "Please don't let this be a dream."

\------

Logan leaned his head back at Anders' guidance, exposing the line of his throat more, and opened his mouth to meet Anders' tongue with his own. All of it, the kissing, the friction between their hips, Anders' fucking ridiculously fantastic legs squeezed tight around him, it was simultaneously too much and not enough and Logan was reduced to soft, breathy, needy noises spilling from his lips unstaunched.

"I swear I'm - I'm not a dream, just - just promise me you aren't, because I don't think I could stand it."

\------

"Not a dream. You know how long I've laid awake thinking about this?" Anders drew Logan's lower lip through his teeth, sucking lightly to ease any sting. "I haven't even kissed anyone since the first time I heard your voice in chat." 

He rucked Logan's shirt up, let his hands skim over hot skin. His own skin was tingling, an electric ache. "If we wake up, you promise me you'll ask for my number, tell me the truth?"

\------

"No..." Logan mumbled, when Anders released his lip. "Seriously? You didn't...?" He groaned, reaching around to knead at Anders' ass with the hand that had been on his hip, his other hand brushing fingers over Anders' brow and down his face, tracing the line of his jaw and the curve of his throat and dipping inside the hoodie to brush over the muscles of Anders's shoulder. 

"Anything," he said breathlessly to the request. "I swear. I'll - I'll tell you, Anders. I've wanted you for so long, I was just scared, but I'm not anymore, I'm not..." He pressed an open-mouthed kiss over Anders' pulse.

\------

"Nobody, Logan. It hasn't been anybody but you for ages." Anders ran his hands up Logan's sides, under his shirt, over his ribs. One hand climbed higher so that his thumbnail could scrape his nipple. 

He bent his head to lick Hawke's earlobe and then murmur, "It's a little forward for a first date, especially when I never got that dinner, but I kind want to suck you off on the floor of the great hall of an imaginary castle."

\------

Logan bucked his hips up against Anders with a low hiss at that. He looked utterly wrecked, pupils blown wide with desire, lips dark and kiss-swollen. He framed Anders' face with both his big, coarse hands and kissed him, tongue encouraging Anders to open his mouth to him and then licking inside. 

He pulled back with a wet noise and pressed kisses all over his face, from his chin to his cheek to his brow and back down the other side before he kissed the tip of his nose repeatedly. 

"You are going to kill me," he growled, low and wanting.

\------

"God, I hope not, sweetheart. I just found you." Anders smirked as Logan kissed his nose, eyes crossing just a little. He rocked his hips in a gentle roll, eyes fluttering closed and a breathy noise in his throat. 

His hands drew slow, soothing circles on Logan's sides, humming softly as he leaned down for another, slow, savouring kiss. "What am I going to do with you, love?"

\------

Logan made a choked noise at the first endearment, too distracted by it to give any kind of sarcastic response to Anders' smirk. His hands fell to Anders' waist, and then he wrapped both arms around him firmly and held him close. He closed his eyes at the kiss, and then opened them again when Anders spoke once more, and stared, blue eyes going wide.

"Say that..." his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "You can start by calling me that again," he mumbled, with some wonder.

\------

"What, sweetheart?" Anders smirked again, but his eyes were adoring, liquid honey in the firelight and his hands never stopped caressing underneath Logan's shirt. "Or love?" He circled his arms around Logan's middle and pressed his face into his neck, hunched in his lap. 

"Because I do, you know? Have for a long time. Loved you I mean. And don't laugh just because we'd never met, okay?" He squeezed a little tighter.

\------

Logan ran a hand over the back of Anders' head soothingly and then brushed through the fine hairs on the nape of his neck. 

"Laugh at you?" he wondered, and his voice was soft, more gentle than it had been yet. "Never." He tilted his head to kiss what part of Anders' face he could reach, which ended up being just above his jawline. 

"I've been in love with you for almost as long as we've known each other, you silly man."

\------

"I'm the silly one? Have you seen your shirt, Hawke?" Anders started laughing softly, against Logan's neck, and then sat slowly back, trying not to grin too widely. 

"I guess you can't really be blamed for it, but you're wearing it." He kissed Logan on the forehead and then shifted on his knees with a grimace. "We should find a floor that isn't stone. Or, hell, a bed, to continue this discussion about love and silliness and what we do when we wake up and find out this was all just a dream."

\------

Logan stuck out his tongue around the sappy simile on his face. "T-shirts under hoodies are generally not meant to be seen, love."

His hands dropped to rub at Anders' sides gently and he made a face when Anders looked pained. "All right. You can't be very comfortable." He looked around the cavernous room around them again and hummed. "That could take a while, though. This place is huge."

\------

Anders followed Logan's glance around the hall and then arched into him, rubbing his face like a cat's against his shoulder before levering himself to his feet. He held out a hand to help pull the larger man up. "It would be smart to try to figure out where we are, and if anyone else is here." 

He tilted his head a little sideways giving Logan a glance that was both bashful and appreciative. "And I wasn't kidding about finding a bed." He was trying hard not to be presumptive or overly forward but the things he wanted that he never thought he'd have? And he had this nagging doubt still firmly in his chest that this was the only chance he'd ever get.

\------

Logan twitched in surprise at the touch, a breathless sort of motion that had him curving towards Anders automatically, lifting a hand to cup the back of Anders' head and letting out a soft noise, a cross between a giggle and an inhale. He smiled, taking Anders' hand and leveraging himself to his feet. 

"Right," he said, keeping a firm, rather insistent hold of Anders' hand even when he was standing. "Very practical." He nodded, already starting to study their surroundings and think through what he had noticed about this place so far.

The sidelong glance Anders gave him brought all those thoughts up short. Logan tipped his head, his eyes sweeping Anders' face with a thoughtful sort of study, and he squeezed Anders' hand.

"I hope you are aware I don't plan on letting this be a one-off sort of thing." His tone was mild, but there was a keen intensity to his blue gaze.

\------

Anders was looking at the heraldry near the throne, free hand worrying his lower lip when Logan spoke again, and he blinked and looked at him. His color was better, less pale and waxy now, so when he blushed it didn't make him look so feverish. 

"What? No, I-- why?" He shook his head, trying to take the reins of his thoughts again and say something that wasn't going to make him look like a bigger bloody idiot than he did already. He gathered up his sweater, vest and shirt in one hand, and then finally looked back at Hawke. 

"Love, you could be a Fade spirit for all I know." Anders smirked as he referenced the mythology of the game they'd been playing together for so long. "I could wake up in my bed tomorrow and this could have been a dream, or a caffeine related meltdown. I could have had a surprise brain tumor and be currently lying in a hospital." 

His voice started to tremble as he drew closer to Logan. "All I know is that out of all the insane explanations for what is happening, actual magical transportation for the two of us, _actual uses_ is dead last on that list. I want this to be real." He brought Logan's knuckles to his lips, pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. "But I'm not going to waste the opportunity acting like I get to have you forever, when it could end with every blink of the eye."

\------

There was a complicated wealth of emotions on Logan's face as he stared at him, too many for even Logan to quite register them all. The phrase 'brain tumor' made him clutch desperately at Anders' hand, a ready denial on his lips, because that couldn't be what was happening, it couldn't, not if Logan was here too, and he refused to even think about it. He couldn't deny Anders' reasoning, because none of this made any sense at all, and how could they know if it would last or even if they would remember it. 

All he knew was that the thought of losing Anders again, forgetting what they had found here, the feel of Anders' lips under his own and the warm, blinding happiness of being wanted back...the very idea of not getting to keep this was enough to nearly send him into a blind panic.

He let out a choking nose and clung to Anders' hand more tightly. He couldn't speak around the lump in his throat and settled for shaking his head wildly, vehemently, denial writ large in his wide eyes.

\------

Shit. Anders could see the near-panic in Logan, his mute, blind headshake, and the way he clutched at his hand painful-tight. Fuck. He'd done that trying to be practical, trying to keep himself buffered just a little bit from the "what if this never happened, and you let yourself believe you got it" reality that was his miserable life. 

He didn't get good things, and one way or the other, that had almost always been true. And here, while trying to prepare himself for that truth... well he was a self-fulfilling prophecy of fucking up, wasn't he? 

Anders gripped the back of Logan's neck with his free hand and brought their foreheads together gently. "Hey, Hawke, come on, breathe, it's okay. Remember the promise? You wake up in your own bed alone tomorrow, you find me, alright? And I swear to god, I'll do the same." Even if it wasn't real, this had convinced him Logan at least deserved his honesty, and if his loneliness and desire were figments that Anders had constructed... 

Well, his kindness wasn't, and Anders would just have to trust that he wouldn't get /gkicked for talking about feelings.

\------

Logan nodded mutely and took a few deep breaths, his hand reaching for Anders' neck in a mirroring motion. He closed his eyes, brushed his thumb through the short hair on Anders' nape, tried to focus on the realness of it, no matter how little sense it made. 

"All right," he said, his voice shaking. "All right. I can do that." He tilted his head slightly, the motion effecting a slow drag of his brow against Anders' forehead, and was silent for a long time, just breathing. 

When he spoke again, his voice was steadier, but desperate. "I can't go back to a world where you don't want me, Anders. I can't."

\------

Anders hummed softly. "Well, good luck for you, you won't have to." He tipped his head so that he could run his nose along Logan's, eyes closed. He was still stunned at how real this all felt. Could he have actually gotten it so wrong all these months, that Logan had this well of love and affection for him, when all Anders thought he'd felt was friendship? 

Whatever it was, it felt real, and amazing, and Anders was going to hold onto it as tightly as he could for however long he could. He opened his eyes, smiling at Logan. "Ready to look for someplace more comfortable to make-out?" His smile cracked wider into a cheeky grin with a quirked eyebrow, eyes glinting heated and amber.

\------

Logan leaned forward abruptly and pressed his lips to Anders' - a rather chaste kiss, all things considered, but one that lingered. 

He pulled back to smile, tentatively at first, but his smile widened the longer he looked at Anders. 

"Yeah. Let's - yeah."

God, he wanted so much, so badly. It scared him, the more because that carefully constructed wall was shattered, the one he'd built over the years to protect himself by repeated denial that there was even a possibility that he could have anything with the man he loved. There was nothing to hide behind anymore, and consequently nothing to shield him, and if this went wrong or was a lie or any number of possibilities, he wasn't really sure he could handle it.


	2. Chapter 2

Anders made a soft, surprised noise at the kiss, but kissed back immediately. He was having a hard time remembering that it was a good idea to go someplace else to keep kissing. He let Logan withdraw though, and smiled back, though the intent attention made him flush. 

He laced his fingers back with Logan's and tugged him toward the closest door. Beyond was a rotunda that had recently been rather a lot on fire. "That's worrying." The smell of char was still strong, and he cast Logan a worried glance. Maybe it wasn't an abandoned castle after all?

\------

Logan frowned, studying the room. It looked like some kind of battle had happened here - there was blood on the floor, and over by a pile of broken beams near one wall. At Anders' worried glance, though, he squeezed his hand and offered a reckless grin.

He looked down at his free hand and felt for the edges of that weird magic core inside him, squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, and then his hand and midway up his forearm was stone, and arcing between his stone fingers was a tiny ball of flickering lightning. 

He flicked his fingers outwards and the lightning disappeared as the stone drew in on itself. 

"Not that worrying, love," he said, with somewhat more confidence than he felt.

\------

Anders watched the display of Logan's magic with wide eyes. "Wow. That's... weirdly hot." He grinned and craned his neck to look up the narrow tower. "So, up? Or back? Or that other door?" He found it easy to fall back into the simple role of following Logan's instincts. 

It was a little weird, wasn't it, to expect him to choose when this was all... real? But it was also weirdly familiar.

\------

Well, this was familiar. "Right, right, stick the combat mage out front why don't we. Gotta keep the precious healer in the back," he complained, a mix of his usual whinging and a warm sort of almost-flirting because yes, definitely keep the healer in the back, and not just because everyone else needed him but because this time it was Anders' real hand in his and Logan found he didn't mind the whole choosing and leading thing very much at all. 

He directed his thoughts away from the heat climbing up the back of his neck at Anders' 'weirdly hot' comment, and considered their options. "That looks like a library, of a sort," he said, eyeing the space above them. "So unless you want to do it against a bookcase---" he cleared his throat and wow, that comment did not help how warm he already felt, nope, not at all, "I say we take the other door," he finished all in a rush.

\------

"If you bothered to develop a ranged spec worth anything I wouldn't have to--" Anders snorted and broke off from his usual rant about how glass cannon mages did not belong wrapped in rock armor and taking on swarms of mobs at melee range. He rolled his eyes and then choked softly at Logan's comment. 

He tilted his head, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter as he let Logan pull him toward the other door. "Do _it_? What are we going to do against a bookcase, Logan?" He was grinning widely as they stepped back out onto the battlements. "Because now I'm imagining everything we _could_ do against a sturdy medieval shelving installation, and it's very distracting, so if you could narrow it down..."

\------

Logan shook his head vigorously, the heat spreading throughout his body now visible in the way his cheeks were just the slightest bit darker than usual and his ears were reddening, his palm in Anders' gone sweaty. 

"Nope. Nope. You are going to forget I ever said that."

He wiggled the fingers of his free hand in a Ben Kenobi motion and intoned, "That was not the thought you were looking for."

\------

Anders laughter was delighted and a bit dirty. "Oh, love, you are so wrong about that. I'm going to cherish this thought always. Every time I see a bookshelf, I'll think, 'hmm, what would Logan do to me against that one' and I spend a lot of time in the library." He crowded in and stole a kiss, eyes twinkling merrily. 

The walk across the battlement to the tower beyond was oddly still. At this height there should be wind or weather of any kind, but the roiling clouds and unsettling quality of the light aside, it was like being inside an overturned bowl.

\------

Logan groaned loudly and was about to cover his eyes with his hand when Anders stepped close and kissed him. He let out a noise of surprise but kissed back eagerly, and when Anders pulled away Logan reached up and tugged at his hoodie's drawstrings.

"You're terrible," he said, with mock-mournfulness clearly undone by the fact that he couldn't stop smiling.

He wrenched open the heavy door to the tower when they came to it and held it open for Anders. Inside, the...office? seemed particularly tidy in comparison to the charred rotunda they had just come from, and the questionable looking ladder to a second floor seemed a little out of place.

"Oh, great," he said, looking around. "More bookcases." He flushed again.

\------

Anders peered around, lifting a hand and setting several candles and lamps around the room alight with a soft pop. "Mmm, bookcases." He grinned at Logan and went to one, scanning the spines to see if he could read the titles. 

Boring, boring, military history, an almanac. His finger stopped on the sign of one and his smile fled, color draining from his face. "Hawke. Hawke, do you remember the name of the questgiver NPC outside the Temple of Sacred Ashes instance?" It was one of Anders' least favorite dungeons because of the weird religious riddle game in the middle. One time he'd aggroed the whole lot of ghosts at once, then laughed like a maniac while he healed the party just fine from the ensuing chaos while Aveline bellowed at him.

\------

Logan shook his head at Anders and went to rifle through the desk drawers as Anders read the spines.

"Uhh..." He straightened, scratching his head. "That one religious scholar, right? Brother... Genitian, Gen-- oh, Genitivi, I think? Why?" 

He pulled a few pieces of parchment out of the drawer he had open - letters, from the looks of them - and scanned over their contents. Then he stopped, frowned, read the salutation again. "Huh."

\------

Anders tugged the book off the shelf and took it to Hawke, holding it out. The cover was titled, _Thedas: Myths and Legends_ by Ferdinand Genitivi. He dropped it on the desk and flipped it open. It wasn't a mock-up, the book was full of text, easily legible, if old-fashioned printing, and engraved illustrations. 

"What the hell is going on?" Anders was pale, looking up at Logan's face, the frown. "What is it?"

\------

The book was, Logan had to admit, rather beautiful, even if its very existence strained credulity. He flipped the pages in his hand so their lines of handrwriting faced Anders and handed them over. They were all addressed to a Cullen, and signed by someone named Mia.

"Remember that templar npc, the one that wanted you to wipe out all the mages in Kinloch Hold? Noodly-haired fellow. Wasn't his name Cullen?"

He remembered that one because he'd reappeared several times, always spouting on about how mages weren't human. Logan occasionally amused himself by shooting lightning at him whenever possible, not that it ever did anything except make Aveline nag him to stop acting like a child. 

The fear and hate of an entire group of people just for being born, even if it was just a silly in-game thing prejudice, had always made him a little sick. It struck too close to home.

\------

Anders nostrils flared slightly at the mention, and he nodded as he flipped through the pages, lower lip pouting out just a hair as he chewed on the inside of it. "What an utter fucking prat. 'Since you've returned to Ferelden from Kirkwall'," he murmured before turning the page. "And this one expressly mentions the Templar and the fucking Chantry." 

He dropped the letters back on the desk and ran both of his hands through his hair. This seemed like further evidence they - or he rather - was trapped in a hallucination, a nightmare, cobbled together from his two great obsessions: Logan Hawke and the fucking MMO they played together. His hands were shaking and he folded them tightly, scowling at the desk. "How about I set this whole lot on fire, and we go back to not knowing _anything_ about what was going on and looking for someplace to kiss more?"

\------

Logan wrinkled his nose in agreement and his lips curved at Anders' obvious dislike of the man. He gave him a fond look.

"To be fair," he said thoughtfully, much less perturbed, "the fact that you are capable of setting all of it on fire with your mind was a pretty good indicator that wherever we are is somehow related to the game already." He wiggled his fingers meaningfully to indicate that lightning he'd summoned earlier as more proof. Then he noticed the shaking of Anders' hands and stepped closer to him, covering them with his own. "Also, I'm pretty confident I'm real, and you're pretty confident you're real, even if the fact that we're actually together is pretty damn unlikely, and if we're both self-aware, this can't be a dream, right?"

He reached out to cup Anders' cheek. "All right?"

\------

Anders' expression shifted as his eyes moved from the desk to Logan, worry lines softening as his hand touched his cheek. He closed his eyes, nodding into the cupped hand with a little huff of a sigh. "Yes. Okay, that actually make sense." Unless the brain tumor thing were true and anything could make sense, he supposed, but the last time he'd said anything remotely like that Logan had nearly hyperventilated so he swallowed the pessimistic snark. 

The things he'd do for love.

His lips quirked into a fond smile as he opened his eyes. "Always with your level head, love. This is why you're the leader." He glanced back down at the table with a fainter frown than before. "So, leader, where will you lead us now?"

\------

Logan shook his head, lips quirking. "And here I thought it was just 'cause my mage has a fantastic ass. Isabela goes on about it often enough."

He leaned forward and kissed Anders' forehead. 

"Well, we got two options - we can see what's up the peculiarly rickety ladder, or move out of what is most probably Cullen's office."

\------

"Well, your real life ass is so superior I can't even remember what your character's ass looked like." Anders stole a kiss before Logan could escape after bussing his forehead, smirking, eyes watching for the signs he had flustered him before turning away to hmm at the ladder. 

"You know if Cullen's bed is up there or something, I'm going to piss in it, right? I mean, that's a thing that's going to happen. So, maybe, assuming he's an important mage-hater around these parts we skip it?" The idea that there might be other people actually here, and that they were in some Chantry or Templar stronghold, two apostates who had just magically learned how to do... magic. He rubbed his forehead, the mirth dying. "Seriously though, lets stay away from the 'mages aren't people' Templars, huh?"

\------

Logan's dismissive pfft was quickly swallowed by Anders' kiss, and when Anders pulled back he looked a little dazed. He licked his lips. "Right. Uhm. If you, uh, say so, love."

He gave a hum of agreement, wrinkling his nose. "Yeah, that's - let's keep moving." He took Anders' hand and tugged him towards one of the doorways, and then drew up short.

"On second thought..." he went back to the desk and replaced the letters carefully where he'd found them, and then placed Genitivi's book back on the shelf. Any place where Cullen was not only real but apparently some kind of commander big enough to get his own tower was probably not in their best interests to disturb.

\------

Anders smiled fondly at Logan as he moved to return the book and letters to their places, and then laced their fingers together automatically before moving back out onto the battlements.

He paused at the outer side of the rampart, leaning out past the crenelation with a low whistle as he looked down. Nothing, nothing, nothing and more nothing. His eyes were wide and a little wild as he glanced around. "Holy shit."

\------

Logan leaned over next to Anders and paled, the freckles on his cheeks becoming more starkly noticeable. 

"Yeah, okay, that's...really freaky. Fuck." He pulled Anders back away from the edge and shook his head. "This...isn't normal. I don't remember anything about castles floating in the void in the game." He crowded close to Anders for the reassuring warmth of him at his side.

\------

Anders' resisted the tug back from the precipice for just a heartbeat, eyes wide and fascinated. But when he looked at how pale Logan was, he nudged him up against one of the tall crenelations on the opposite side of the wall walk and leaned into him. 

"Alright, well, what does float in the void? No... not the void. The Fade. Islands floating in all that annoying green nonsense, right?" He stared up at the sky and then looked back at Logan, eyebrow quirked. "It doesn't change anything though, it's still you and me, Logan. Here, together." His smile was lopsided and sweet, concern shining in his eyes.

\------

Logan tried to think through what he knew of the Fade from the game, tried to make Anders' observations make sense in the event they'd been brought to some part of a fantasy world for real. He didn't like it when things didn't make sense.

It was rather a fruitless endeavor, but there was Anders, with a crooked smile and warm eyes fast on his face, and Logan found he didn't quite care as much as he should have.

"Together." He repeated the word reverently, nodded to himself, wrapped an arm around Anders' waist. "I didn't think I'd ever hear you say that, love."

\------

Anders cuddled further into Logan when the arm circled his waist, basically laying on him while standing. "Well, now you have. And we are." He nuzzled against his cheek and pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw. 

He paused, drawing back for a moment. "We... we are, aren't we? I mean, I can call you my boyfriend, and it isn't..." He chewed on the inside of his lower lip again. Logan wasn't out. Maybe... maybe they wouldn't be together when they got home?

Huh. Seemed he'd started accepting all of this as real, then. So new things to freak out about, goody.

\------

Logan felt giddy. "Yes. Yes. Please. You can - you can call me whatever you want, love." He took Anders chin between his fingers. "I want..." he groaned and leaned forward, captured Anders' lips with his own in a kiss so full of eagerness and yearning it was practically bruising.

"I want _you_. For you, anything, anything, I swear, I'll do anything- I don't care what my family thinks; I've got almost enough to buy the house that my mom wants up in Hightown anyways." He looks like he's about to promise more, but he bites down on his lip, hard, to keep from babbling. There's a slightly manic look in his eyes, a desperation just lingering under the surface that doesn't detract from the sincerity of what he's saying but does make it...somehow feel off.

\------

Anders returned the kiss with ready interest, but when Logan broke it he ran his tongue over the abraded swell of his bottom lip, a tiny frown brewing as Hawke babbled. He ran his hands up to cup Logan's face and looked at him carefully. 

"Logan. What... You have me. And I'll be here for you no matter what. I meant what I said earlier about how different people need to come out at different times. You don't have to tell your mom about me in order for me to be your boyfriend." His thumbs brushed over the freckled cheeks under them gently, soothingly.

"Sometimes people just want casual things, or, I don't know, an 'only in the Fade' clause or whatever. Not that I thought that about you, not at all, I just wasn't sure what you'd be comfortable with, and didn't want to presume." He shifted his hand, brushing his thumb below Logan's lower lip where he was biting it so hard, eyes worried.

\------

Logan rubbed his mouth and closed his eyes. "God, you're perfect," he whispered.

The worry in Anders' eyes made the tight feeling in his chest fade, made Logan aware of the feeling in the first place. He almost laughed, and swallowed the wrecked sound whole before he could. It came back to Rowan, didn't it. It always came back to Rowan. He knew what they'd had had been messed up, knew that even when he couldn't quite believe it, but for Anders to say _I'll be here for you no matter what_ , to say, _You don't have to tell anyone about me in order for me to be your boyfriend_ was...everything he'd ever lost by falling in love for the first time with a man who didn't accept him.

And he wanted desperately to stop the worrying in the eyes of the man he loved now. 

"I'm sorry. It's just...it's been a long time, and I don't want to lose you right when I've got you," he said, knowing it wasn't enough to explain, not really. He kissed the pad of Anders' thumb and fixed big blue eyes on Anders' face, willing him to understand.

\------

Anders watched the anxiety shift and change in Logan's face. It wasn't gone, not really, but it had eased... he seemed to have a handle on it now, and whatever it was causing it, was too big right now to grapple with. 

That was something Anders could understand even though it hurt more than a little to be cause of Logan's anxiety. He nodded, leaning in to kiss Logan again, long and slow, every brush of his lips cherishing. 

When he pulled back he murmured, "For the record, I'm not perfect. I'm crabby and impatient and condescending to people I think are being thick. But if you want me in your life, I'm not going anywhere, Logan." He swallowed hard, and looked down. "I'd pretty much figured I was only going to be your friend, and I'd convinced myself that was enough. I was just happy to hear your voice every day. So you're not going to lose me if you don't want to tell your mom." 

He cracked a small smile, looking back up through his lashes. "I might be pissed if you kept it a secret from Varric, though, fair warning."

\------

Logan closed his eyes at the kiss and leaned into it, reaching out to touch Anders' cheek and draw slow, gentle circles there with his thumb. He nearly chased Anders' lips forward again when he finally pulled away, but licked his lips and resisted, barely.

One corner of his mouth inched up. "I don't know, I've always thought you sounded more sexy when you were being condescending to... well, I guess it was Carver mostly, wasn't it?" He smirked, but the expression faded when Anders looked down. "God," groaned, "How have we both been such idiots about this? That was supposed to be my schtick, pining fruitlessly and pretending it was all fine."

His thumb stroked over the line of Anders' cheekbone and he laughed, the booming sound that automatically can't out a bit at odds with this whole conversation. "Are you kidding? I couldn't keep it from him if I tried. He's way too damn nosy. And good at reading between the lines. Also knowing me I'd slip up and call you 'love' next dungeon night and then Isabela will climb into our computer screens to squeal."

He gave a lopsided sort of smile, paused to study Anders' face and then hummed. "I'll tell you about my ex sometime, okay? Not right now. It's not great first... date? conversation."

\------

Anders snorted at Hawke's mention of Isabela's squealing, though his smile was stronger when he laughed. Good, that was good, he'd made Logan laugh, gotten him back on more stable footing. Of course if Isabela knew then the whole guild would, including Carver, and then... well Anders wasn't going to belabor that. It wasn't really at issue right now anyway. 

He caught Logan's hand and kissed his palm before nodding. "Of course, love, you'll tell me when you're ready." He smiled gently. Everyone had exes and stories. It isn't as if Anders would be ready to tell him about his father if Logan asked him right this minute. 

"And, not to be the beacon of optimism and steal your thunder for once, but it turns out neither of us was pining fruitlessly after all." He darted in, kissed Logan's cheek, and then broke away to start toward the next building along the wall.

\------

Logan wrinkled his nose, looking caught between surprise at the kiss and frustration that Anders had darted away to quickly for him to respond. He wasn't entirely sure why this kept surprising him - Anders kept touching him, repeatedly, and every time it was like a goddamned fresh miracle. He was a sap, good lord. 

He took an extra moment to admire Anders from behind, touching his cheek where he'd kissed him, and then hurried after.

"Who says I don't like beacons of optimism?" He reached for Anders' hand again when he'd caught up, a questioning brush of his fingers against the back of Anders' hand instead of just taking it.

\------

The brush against the back of Anders hand caused him to catch Logan's immediately and tangle their fingers together. He smiled over at him sidelong, and knowing.

What an adorable nerd he'd found himself. An adorable, gorgeous, breathtakingly good person, nerd. "You just usually _are_ the beacon of optimism, love. I'm the cranky one, remember?" 

Letting people die who yelled for heals outside his rotation, dumping aggro onto DPS who were bragging about topping the meter, and just never saving Fenris' ass for any reason... Anders had a reputation for being a jerk, and a diva in game, with a mouth and left-leaning political views to match.

\------

Logan pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose at that. "I only pretend not to be angry at the world, love."

His brow furrowed, because that didn't quite sound right either. Yes, he had a reputation as the dad of the group, always nagging people to eat and sleep and generally put their rl needs first (especially Anders, but that was besides the point). And it wasn't like he didn't mean any of that - he _did_ care about the members of their little group, and he was perfectly happy to listen to Merrill complain about how her family didn't get her when she needed and let Fenris drunk chat him about that mysterious, slightly criminal past of his which Logan was pretty sure Fenris still hadn't talked to anyone else in the guild about.

Still. He was self aware enough to recognize his tendency to big brother everyone came from a lot of years of taking care of Bethany and Carver when his dad was working and his mom wasn't quite up to it, and he knew that had only gotten worse after he'd been a selfish and immature teenager who'd missed the last four years of his dad's life and some key times in the twins as well by getting the hell out of dodge before he was even eighteen. (And then there had been his dad's 'take care of them when I'm gone' comment and Logan really didn't like to think about how much that promise might have changed and cost him in the scheme of things.) 

Sometimes the role felt more performative than anything, but Logan had spent so many years practicing being the nice one, the one that put everybody else first, that he wasn't even sure how to go about not being that person anymore.

Anders' candor and relentless ability to be himself no matter what anybody else might think or whose feelings might get stepped on had always been particularly attractive to him.

\------

That drew Anders up short, and he turned to Logan, eyes searching his face. "I'm sorry, Logan, I didn't mean that you--" He grimaced, one corner of his mouth pulling slightly deeper than the other. "It was a dumb joke." 

Of course Logan was angry? Who could look at the world and not be angry? Stupid people. Evil people. Logan was neither and that's part of what drew Anders to him. The fact that he could be good, recognize wrong when he saw it, and still care about people generally. Anders had a hard time with that, and it made him feel bitter and worn out and guilty that he assumed everyone had an ulterior motive, but he still wanted desperately to help.

He ran his free hand down Logan's arm, squeezing his other hand, added quietly, "You're able to feel angry and still be kind, and that's kind of amazing. I hope you know that?"

\------

Logan shook his head. "It wasn't a dumb joke." 

He stepped closer when Anders took his other hand. "I'm pretty sure you're the only one who could look at my inability to put myself first and think 'wow, he's amazing', but thank you." The words were self-deprecating but his tone was light, and his eyes were warm and fond on Anders' face. 

Maybe it was time to stop making sure everyone else was okay before he was. Maybe if he'd done that a long time ago, not torn himself up over wanting to not push Anders into something he didn't want, they would have been together a long time ago.

\------

Anders blinked at that and shook his head. "Shit, Logan, no, of course you should take care of yourself. This is coming out all wrong." He chewed on the inside of his lower lip, trying to figure out how to explain. 

He squeezed Logan's hands tighter. "I mean, I guess from now on, I'll get to take care of you? If you don't mind?" He wanted, suddenly with an intensity too fierce to get out of his throat, to make sure nobody ever took advantage of Hawke's good nature again. "Logan, where do you live?" 

All Anders knew was he'd grown up on farms, that he lived with his mom and Carver, that Bethany was away at school somewhere. 

Anders was on scholarship and couldn't afford to go anywhere, he didn't even own a car, and all of a sudden he had this person he was thinking about, somewhere in the back of his head, that he'd upend his entire life for, but he couldn't, not really. He had nothing. Logan had said earlier he nearly had enough money saved for his mom to have a new big house, which meant his and Varric's company was starting to pay out... and Anders had been eating stale corn chips for dinner the past three nights in a row because he'd gotten to the letter office too late for the three-day-old cupcakes that the local vegan bakery donated to them.

\------

Logan wanted, oh, Maker, did he want that, with a fierce wild ache in his chest. Not Anders taking care of him, although yes, that, a little, to have someone with him for more than just the expectation that he should take care of them because he was the eldest son. But more that they could take care of each other? Because he knew that Anders ran himself ragged, knew that he could benefit from someone real and not over the internet reminding him to eat and sleep, as much as Logan could use someone to remind him that he didn't have to take care of everything for everyone all the time.

And he was used to moving, enjoyed it really, not being tied down and if he got his mother settled and independent he could go anywhere, do anything, because he owned the business with Varric and it was movable and he had enough skills, even if they were mostly laborer's skills, to be able to find work anywhere. He would drop everything to be with Anders in a heartbeat, especially with Anders the one in school.

"Kirkwall," he says, his eagerness bubbling up in his voice. "Well, we're out in Lowtown right now but I might be able to move Mom into Kirkwall proper, into Hightown eventually. But you know I can get a job anywhere, right? And I can run the company remotely just as easily, especially at this point."

\------

"You're in Kirkwall?" Anders rubbed his forehead, trying to still the laughter that was bubbling up, because this was embarrassing really. The two of them were the biggest idiots. How many times had he failed to ask the right questions to make this all easier? 

He shook his head, snorting softly, and then stared up at the creepy, roiling light in the sky. "I live in Darktown, Logan." Darktown was a mix of abandoned industrial land, abandoned attempts at loft-based gentrification, and on the near side the shittiest student housing slum the the world had ever seen. 

It was rife with crime, violent and non, and any time the University did particularly well or poorly in whatever major sporting event was happening, at least one car got set on fire. 

He was trying so hard not to laugh when he looked back at Logan, but it was damn hard. "We're practically neighbors. How stupid can we be?"

\------

At the forehead rubbing, Logan gave Anders an anxious look, bracing himself for him to inevitably say 'oh, I literally live 2000 miles from you' or something like.

And then he was snorting and almost laughing and mentioning _Darktown_ of all places, and Logan didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry or...

"Oh my god, I'm going to murder Varric. Murder. Him. All this time, and he knew you were in the same city, and if he didn't know how I felt about you I'll, I'll... eat one of Carver's nasty sweaty hats."

He looked at Anders and dragged him closer, burying his face in Anders' shoulder and mumbling, "Oh my goddd."

\------

Anders' pressed Hawke closer, a hand on the back of his neck, the other against the small of his back. He was laughing softly now as Logan lamented into his shoulder, nodding, though that was mostly an excuse to rub his cheek against the close curls over his temple. 

"I gave him my address when he had those shirts made months ago." He pressed a kiss to Logan's temple, then his ear. "Do you think he hates me as boyfriend material, or he just knew it would make us weirder and more awkward if we knew we were in the same town if we couldn't even admit we liked each other?" 

There was a little anxiety in Anders voice. He knows it's the second, almost definitely... but at the same time he worried that Varric knew something about him, his past, and thought that he needed to protect Logan from that. Which, wasn't crazy, if he was really honest with himself.

\------

Logan tipped his head back with a little frown and kissed Anders' cheek. "Love, no," he protested, the very idea of anyone hating Anders unthinkable, especially his best friend, because that just wasn't possible, and furthermore...

"I guarantee you he didn't tell us because he was too invested in letting it all unfold naturally so he could _observe_ and _take notes_ for one of his goddamned stories. The bastard. For crying out loud, I've..." His cheeks darkened but he hurried on, "I've gone on and on about how absurdly sexy your voice is and he's always giving me these looks like 'uh-huh' and 'go on' and god, I cannot believe he never said anything."

\------

There was plenty of interesting information in there, but only one thing stuck for Anders. "You think my voice is sexy?" He grinned, eyebrows lifting in a suggestive arch while his eyes twinkled. 

"Oh my god, I'm never reading anything Isabela ever whispers me again in voice chat on drunk dungeon night ever again." He was blushing now, thinking about how two glasses of wine had sent him completely silly, and for some reason Isabela hadn't had a mic that night, and she would only send him her whispers and he'd had to read them to everyone and... "I'm going to kill her, and Varric."

\------

Logan looked away, reaching up a hand to rub at the back of his neck awkwardly, though he couldn't stop grinning.

"I don't think you really understand," he mumbled, looking highly embarrassed. "I had...god, I cannot believe I am telling you this...I had the most vivid dreams for weeks after that night."

\------

"Logan." Anders voice was a soft purr, the hand on Hawke's neck shifting to his cheek to draw his eyes back to his. "You're really making me regret ever suggesting we get up off the floor in front of that fireplace." 

There were still spots of color high in Anders' cheeks, but his smile was dopey, lopsided, eyes dripping gold, warm honey and whisky at the same time. "Tell me what you dreamt about?" 

Isabela's whispers had been mostly pirate booty puns, but there had been occasional extremely explicit descriptions of what she wanted to do to, or have done to her by the questgiver NPC in the zone she was questing in. Everyone else had been in the Brecelian forest, being irritated by the maze, and Isabela was off talking about how she wanted to sit lap and ride him until he had more grey in his hair. Which, Anders realized, he'd drunkenly purred over vent, trying to approximate her voice. 

"Oh god, nevermind. I can't... How can you even look at me after that?"

\------

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Logan was standing in front of the the man he'd loved silently for far too long and Anders' eyes were impossibly beautiful, like Logan could just lose himself in those warm golden depths, and he was... Logan was pretty sure purring was the right word for that tone of voice. He was hot all over, embarrassed flush having changed to something stronger as it spread all over his body and settled low between his thighs. 

He pushed Anders back against the heavy wood door of the next building now they'd come to it and kissed him ravenously, dragged Anders' bottom lip into his mouth and sucked, scraped his teeth lightly before he let it go. He wedged a thigh between Anders' legs and closed his eyes.

He remembered waking up drenched in sweat, jacking off in his bedroom or dodging Carver to make it first to the bathroom he shared when he had to work early. Sometimes Anders was blond and scrawny and wearing feathers like his mage, but most often it had been just...

"Your voice, and the dark, and all the things you wanted to do to me, or have me do to you," he said, but that wasn't quite specific enough because we were talking incredibly erotic detail here and so he opened his eyes and tilted his head and crowded in close to Anders to touch his face and then run his hands down the hoodie, gripping at Anders' waist and toying with the hem. 

"How I would feel around you when you took me and all the things you wanted to do to me with your mouth. For example."

Predictably, he was terrible at dirty talk, but he didn't think it would matter much because if Anders was the one talking, he could literally say anything and Logan would find it sexy.

\------

Anders lost his embarrassment at the memory in the wet heat of Logan's mouth. He let Logan crowd him, push him, kiss him, spreading his legs for the thigh that pushed between with a soft moan. He would do anything for him, _anything_ , including reading the worst of Isabela's lurid friendfiction in his ear every night, if he would keep kissing him like that. 

When Logan started talking Anders' breath hitched in his chest. 

His hands slid down to grip Logan's ass, two palms full, dragging him forward against him as Logan talked of _Anders_ taking _him_. He groaned again and chased Hawke's mouth, kissing with wicked tongue, drawing him deeper and when he broke away he murmured, soft and low, "You, love, are going to kill me." He sucked Logan's lower lip into his mouth in an echo of the previous start to the kiss, and then grinned around it, before releasing it with a soft pop. 

"Is that what you want, Logan? For me to spread you out and work you open?" His hands squeezed again, and he was blushing furiously, even his ears flaming red against his normally pale skin. He kissed him again. "I could take you all the way down my throat while I finger your ass, if that's what you want." 

It was funny to find he didn't actually have any restraint. Just remembering his voice, speaking Isabela's words, had made Logan respond with heated demands, so Anders figured he'd give him something else to dream about.

\------

Logan's hips stuttered forward when Anders gripped his ass, a low moan escaping him. He was breathing quickly by the time Anders pulled back from the kiss, and then when Anders started talking, and not just talking but squeezing whole palmfuls of his ass, Logan was practically whimpering by that point which was ironic because he was not usually this... vocal.

But he was also not as embarrassed by any of this as he could have been, because it was _Anders_. He tilted his head, traced his first finger around the shell of Anders' ridiculously red ear, arched against him involuntarily at the suggestions.

"Fuck, Anders," he groaned. "Yes. Anything. If you're asking me what I want I'm going to be really unhelpful because I literally cannot think of anything that you might want to do to me that I would not want right now."

\------

Anders had to restrain himself from sliding down the door and wrestling Logan's jeans open right there. Fuck, Logan was hot, and he... Anders knew better than this. They needed to have a conversation, talk about safer sex, discuss signals and safewords... 

But he never wanted to stop kissing him.

Talking was hard when you had your tongue in someone else's mouth, and that fact wasn't lost on Anders at all when he stretched to kiss Logan again, greedy and loose. One of his hands slid up Logan's back, under his t-shirt, long, dextrous fingers splaying and gripping across the strong muscles of Logan's lower back. 

He broke away to pant softly and murmured, "God, Logan, we need to get back to looking for a bed, or a chair, hell I'd take a table as long as we were indoors."

\------

Logan was, of course, also aware of the fact that more talking that needed to be done, somewhere in the fuzzy recesses of his mind, but mostly he was just undone by... Well, everything. 

He wanted to feel Anders' lean body against his, and he slid his hands under the hoodie and splayed one against the taut, shifting muscles of his stomach, drifted his other hand around Anders' back to drag across his skin and then up to the center of his back, where he stroked and then pulled Anders closer.

"Bed," he panted, loathe to quit touching him. "Yes. I should...let you open that door behind you, then."

\------

Anders skin buzzed with Logan's touch, his arousal and overblown want drawing faint tingles of his healing magic to chase the pads of his fingers. He had to let his head fall back against the door with a thump, force the warmth down, the mana back into it's the pool within him, so that nothing arced out. 

Catching his... shit, his boyfriend's hair on fire because he was excited wasn't going to be good for either of them. He nodded, hand leaving Logan's back to reach behind him, scrabble for the handle. It was an awkward lift-bolt latch though, and he couldn't simply open it with a turn of his wrist. 

He started laughing as he shifted to look at it, other hand still stroking Logan's skin, unwilling to give up all that contact. "You know, don't you, that this room might be full of... I don't know. Barrels of chewed boots and moth-eaten scarves and no bed at all?" The building the door led into looked like an inn, or tavern though, from where it abutted the wall, so there was a good chance there'd at least be a chair.

\------

Logan tilted his head and his spine arched under Anders' touch because that was...yes, the same healing magic at the tips of Anders' fingers as before, but it was...rather more pleasurable when he was already aroused. 

"Ahh, um." He leaned forward, his forehead resting in the curve of Anders' neck, found himself grinding down against the leg he was more or less straddling. "That's...interesting. Um." He took a deep breath, which didn't help matters at all because then all he could smell was Anders, his sweat, skin, very faint traces of a clean scent that was probably his shampoo from the morning before they'd been taken. 

He laughed against Anders' skin for the sheer absurdity of all this, kissed his pulse point, and pulled back. The hand under his shirt still stroking his skin was quite possibly the most wonderful thing Logan had ever felt, and he leaned in to Anders as the door fell open, wrapping an arm around his middle despite the fact that this position was going to make it a little harder for either of them to move. 

"This place seems a little grander than all those Free Marches dungeons you're thinking of, love," he smirked, looking satisfied when the room revealed beyond the door proved his point.

\------

Anders wasn't sure he could ever have enough of Logan's kisses, the close, dense heat of his body, the way his arm _fit_ around his waist. He didn't complain in the slightest at any of it, though he did shift so that his back was pressing against Logan's chest as they peered into the rampart attic room of the tavern. "It's hard not to be grander than the same cave map used five times for different quests." 

He slipped out of Logan's arms, but twined his fingers with his again, and tugged him into the room and shut the door with his foot.

\------

Logan snickered, a vibration in his chest that Anders could probably feel against his back. "Point," be agreed, leaning forward to brush his lips against Anders' temple before he pulled away. It was incredibly easy, just to reach for him like that, and Logan marveled again that he could - just, think about it and do it, reach out and touch him. It was not going to get old for a long, long time.

"Normal taverns mean beds, right?" He let himself be pulled along by the hand and leaned over the rail in the middle of the room to look down at the main body of the tavern when they neared it. "Or is that too much Skyrim and not enough Thedas?"

\------

The tavern was largely dark below them, with some of the weird greenish light filtering through the windows. Anders snickered softly. "It's all super normal. I mean, just look at it." He bumped his hip into Logan, and then raised a hand to conjure a small ball of swirling greenish-blue wisplight that he sent across the attic to illuminate the row of doors that looked like they probably led to small rooms under the taverns dormers. 

The wisp danced down to the second level then, Anders watching it with focused attention as it lit up the abandoned tables and chairs.

\------

"Oh yes. Completely empty, weird green light, plus the fact that it's apparently floating in some chasm. Totally normal." 

Logan watched the wisp drift down away from them as he snarked, looking actually a little enraptured by its dancing light. He squeezed Anders' hand and smiled.

He pointed with his other hand to the row of doors. "Those look promising?"

\------

"An average Tuesday at best. How boring," Anders agreed with a sidelong smirk. He called the wisp back with a tiny quirk of his finger, though he probably didn't need to do that. It was just easier to imagine what he wanted it to do that way. It floated above them, illuminating the rough flooring as they got closer to the doors. 

The idea of finding a bedroom to tumble Logan into was both absurdly appealing and oddly nerve-wracking, as if this was a goal completely out of sync with whatever it was that had happened to them. But it also seemed like the most important thing that had _ever_ happened. 

He poked open the first of the rooms and found it surprisingly neat, if not particularly spacious, with a low ceiling they'd have to watch their heads about. The bed was narrow, about a full-sized mattress, which would be cramped for the two of them, but Anders found that idea even more appealing.


	3. Chapter 3

Logan's stomach fluttered when there was, in fact, revealed to be a bed behind the first door. He gave the small mattress a slight frown - it had been a while since he'd slept in anything smaller than a queen, since his feet tended to hang off the ends of even double beds. And he wasn't exactly small in girth either. 

But then there was Anders' hand in his, and Logan was fairly certain he'd heard Anders' breath catch when they'd actually found a bedroom, and besides, he calculated, glancing sidelong at him, _Anders_ was at least rather lean, and...

Who was he kidding, Logan's biggest priority right now was more touching, and he had no real motivation to keep searching when there was a bed right there. 

He gave a tug on Anders' hand and toed the door shut behind them. "Stop me if you're not okay, love," he said, cupping Anders' cheek with his free hand and leaning in to kiss him slowly, a gentle, soft press of lips that he had just barely begun to deepen before he pulled back.

\------

The gentle pressure of Logan's hand on his face, the soft, lingering kiss, it was all wonderful and perfect and not nearly enough. 

Anders let out a soft noise of disapproval when Logan pulled away, a little click of his tongue, not quite a tsk. He quirked an eyebrow and leaned forward, "I don't normally suggest this on a first date but my pants are still damp, and I love you, so what the hell. Do you want to strip off and makeout, Logan?"

He grinned, all catlike, lips in a soft bow with no teeth showing.

\------

Logan covered his face with a broad hand and bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Oh my goddd," he groaned. "The things you say, love. You're going to actually kill me."

He peeked out between his fingers and admitted, lips curving, "I would love to strip off and make out with you, Anders."

\------

Anders laughed at Logan's antics, smiling and batting his eyelashes comically when he peeked back out. "Excellent." 

He turned and emptied the front pocket of the sweatshirt that he'd stuffed his shirt and vest into onto the table near the door, frowning faintly at the leather-bound journal that was mixed in. Where..? Well it didn't matter. If it was Logan's he wasn't going to go thumbing through it and there were more important things happening. 

He had to crouch to untie and then work off his shoes, which had gone tight and squeaky with the soaking. He peeled off his socks and laid them out to dry as well. The cardigan he draped over the back of the ladder back chair, hopefully it would finish drying without turning too funky. He hoped. 

The trousers came next, shaken out and draped over the seat of the chair, and then he was standing there in his not-the-worst-thank-all-the-gods boxer briefs and Logan's sweatshirt, smiling lopsidedly over at the him. "That is already so much better, you have no idea."

\------

Logan hummed, having shed his shirt and stepped out of his sneakers while Anders was busy. He rubbed one bare, freckled brown shoulder with a hand and stood there shirtless in just his ratty jeans and black socks, watching Anders without shame. 

"Believe me, love, I have some idea," he smirked. Anders' legs were, if possible, longer and more fantastic than his damp trousers had led Logan to believe.

\------

Anders breath caught in his throat at the sight of Hawke standing there shirtless, his broad chest, strong arms. He just stared for several long moments, thinking about his own bony elbows and the sharp edges of his hipbones. 

He was too tall to have ever felt small before, but as he moved closer to Logan, his bulk made him seem slight by comparison. Slight, or gangly. The latter was probably a better descriptor. He was rapidly becoming hard in his shorts and was glad, feverishly, that the sweatshirt was long enough to cover his erection. 

He ran a hand over Logan's stomach, trailing fingers along the edge of his waistband, and clicked a nail against the top button on his jeans. "Can I?" he asked softly, reverently.

\------

Logan dropped his arm when Anders approached. He fit a hand along Anders' sharply delineated hipbone, pushing up his hoodie slightly to do so, and ran his thumb up and down, from skin over the waistband of his boxers to fabric and back again. 

He shivered when Anders touched him, not from cold, but from _Anders_ , and tilted his head to watch Anders' face as his hand moved. It was interesting, he thought, the things his stomach - his body - was doing just from Anders looking at him. Barely touching him. Logan knew he was attractive; at least, his body was, and he worked hard to keep it that way as much from practicality as anything. It was easier to get the kinds of jobs he took on the side - shifting cargo down at the docks, working the orchards during harvest seasons and the Christmas tree farms during the holidays, janitorial work - if he looked like an extremely able-bodied man. But it was a rare thing to be admired just as himself, not as a worker or an attractive person on the streets. 

He resisted the urge to preen a bit and nodded. "Yeah, of course."

\------

Anders hands were warm as he carefully unfastened Logan's jeans, pulling them open slowly, and shifting them to slide off over his hips. He looked into his eyes as he did so, smile widening just a touch, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Sorry if I've let the conversation drop. You're just so bloody gorgeous, Hawke." 

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Logan's collarbone, a tiny flick of his tongue tasting his skin, and then crouched down on one knee to help him step out of his jeans. He rested his forehead against his bare thigh as he did so, trying not to pant, or stare, or do anything else creepy or too desperate seeming.

\------

Logan laughed lightly, his breath hitching on the last sound when Anders kissed his skin. He touched Anders' hair as he knelt, then ran his fingers through it, marveling at the softness. He lifted one foot, then the other, as Anders guided his jeans off the rest of the way, and gave them a slight kick out of the way.

And he would have sworn he was about to say something about how ridiculous this statement was, because had Anders ever looked in a mirror, but what came out was, "Logan. You- you should really start calling me Logan, love." His fingers continued to pet through Anders' hair.

\------

Anders rubbed his cheek against Logan's thigh as those fingers combed through his hair and he arched his neck, practically purring again. That was... nice. Beyond nice. Perfect. He never wanted that to stop. 

He flinched at Logan's correction though and sighed, glancing up at him with a wince. "Sorry. I haven't been doing it all night have I?" He scanned his face, worried. He'd forced himself for months on voice chat to call him Hawke, just like everyone else, because _Logan_ was personal, intimate. 

He stretched his neck and kissed Logan's stomach, just above his hipbone, lips brushing bare skin in an apologetic caress.

\------

Logan touched several fingers to Anders' cheek and shook his head, feeling a little guilty for making him look so worried. "No. Just, sometimes." 

"I - oh - like it when you call me Logan, though," he murmured, a little distracted by Anders' lips above his hipbone, his breath warm against his skin. And then he was all too suddenly aware of the fact that he was standing there in an old pair of grey boxers and his socks, which was rather too little fabric to disguise exactly how interested he was in Anders' mouth being so close to his cock. And Anders' was not only still far too clothed, but on the floor, which seemed...really far away, actually, even if it was - well, ideal for some things which Logan found abruptly that he did not want, not at the moment. 

He sank down to his knees in front of him and moved his hand to cup the back of Anders' head, pulled him in again to kiss him, tried to convey at least a little bit of his confusing maelstrom of want and lust and-but-really-actually-want that went way beyond lust in the slow, insistent press of his lips and his tongue.

\------

Anders made a surprised noise when Logan dropped down onto the floor with him, but melted into the kiss easily, eagerly. He parted his lips at the first flick of Logan's tongue, met it in a teasing flick, drawing him in, as his hands curved over his shoulders, fingers splaying on strong and shifting muscles. 

He leaned heavily against him, knees to chest pressed tight, the bunch of the sweatshirt bottom keeping his cock from rubbing directly against Logan's. Annoying but also kind of helpful if he didn't want to rut into him like an animal and embarrass himself. 

Besides, there were so many things to say, and feel, and this wasn't some meaningless one-night-stand. This was real, and it was right, and it had been a long, long time since Anders had had anyone in his arms that meant anything other than _right now_.

\------

Logan's arms wrapped around Anders tight, his strong hands drifting down his back and spreading, the sweater bunching under his fingers as he held Anders firmly in place where he had leaned against him.

He turned his head, their noses brushing, and he didn't break the kiss until the shallow breaths through his nose that he was taking simply weren't enough. He leaned his head back, but barely, to gasp for air. 

"Anders," he sighed. Just that, because he didn't actually have anything to say that would come remotely close to the warm, perfect, terrifying happiness he was feeling.

\------

Anders expression was uncertain for just a moment when Logan broke the kiss, eyes fluttering open to watch him when his name was sighed. He'd heard plenty of people sigh his name, in regret, in exasperation, but Logan seemed to be practically glowing with warmth and love and his uncertainty melted away into a sweet, heated smile. 

"Logan." His voice held a lilt, almost playful, definitely inviting. "We walked an awful long way to find a bed only to wind up back on a floor." 

He turned his head, to glance at the bed. "It looks like a terrible, lumpy, probably straw mattress, but at least it would have blankets."

\------

Logan hummed. "I don't know, I'm not that cold," he teased. "Are you cold?" He kissed Anders' jaw, just over the scruff there, and then shifted back, not really releasing his hold. 

"Still, you know what we could do about that..." he braced himself, spreading his knees wider, and then stood, lifting Anders and pulling him to his feet with him easily, which effected a nice standing-without-actually-having-to-stop-touching motion. 

"I think," he steadied Anders with hands still on his back and then walked him backwards to the bed, "I could really care less about the mattress, especially if you can be persuaded to take my hoodie off so I can see you. And touch you. But yeah." He snuck in a quick kiss when the backs of Anders' thighs hit the bed.

\------

The way Logan pulled him up made Anders gasp softly, arms tightening on his shoulders as they stood. "Are you sure you're a mage, love? You and the muscles..." He grinned, all warm appreciation as he let Logan walk him back until he knocked into the bed. 

His adam's apple bobbed when Logan mentioned the hoodie and he looked down briefly, and then back up, smirking. "Alright." He sat down on the bed and scooted back, stripping the sweatshirt off over his head in a single motion and leaned back into the pillows with a grin. 

He was hiding the scars on his back, but he didn't want to ruin anything by letting Logan see them, and he certainly wasn't prepared to have a conversation about his father at this moment. He lifted a hand and beckoned Logan to join him, all pale, lean lines of freckled, white skin, with spark reddish-gold hair in a tiny trail down his belly below his navel.

\------

"Well, technically, I'm an everyman who can now mysteriously do magic." Logan stripped off his socks as Anders settled back because, ew, socks in bed. "But I guess you could attribute the muscles to the son-of-a-farmer thing." He looked up with a grin as he tossed the socks in the general direction of where he'd kicked his jeans, but it was a grin that quickly faded at the sight of so much...Anders...on display. He swallowed, his eyes drifting up Anders' chest slowly, and then he pounced on the bed and crawled after him, his hands reaching out before he'd even made it quite far enough up the bed. 

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he breathed, reaching first to run his fingers through the trail of hair and then dropping onto his side next to Anders and tracing a path up the contours of his chest, over ribs and muscle, touch feather-light. He propped himself up on one elbow.

\------

The pounce made Anders laugh breathlessly, watching Logan's face as he crawled closer, fingers reaching to explore. He was unused to the level of adoration that Logan was giving him. He'd never been insecure about his looks generally, and he'd had something real, once upon a time with Karl, but this was different than all of that. 

"Logan." It wasn't a protest, instead, pleading as he looked up into his blue eyes. He raised a hand to brush fingers against his cheek. "You're going to make me blush." He was already blushing, a deep rose tinge to his skin all the way down to his chest. He grinned a little and then arched his neck up to steal a kiss.

\------

Logan splayed his hand in the center of Anders' chest, just below his collarbone where the spreading blush was strongest. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he laughed, looking smug and pleased even as Anders' drew him into a kiss.

His fingers moved up to curl under Anders' jaw and then he sighed, wriggling closer until he could drop his head against Anders' chest and throw his arm over his side - the angle wasn't great, but left him room enough to keep exploring with his fingertips. He wasn't entirely sure where the intense urge to just...snuggle up to Anders and curl into him and literally never stop touching him came from, because it wasn't like he'd really had anyone that he'd ever just...cuddled with before. Good lord. The idea that he might have done something like that with Rowan was just laughable. And he didn't consider himself a very touchy person, technically, since punching Carver's shoulder whenever he got particularly mouthy didn't count. Which...yeah, maybe that was the problem.

You spend so much time pining for someone you've never actually met, maybe you're bound to get touch-deprived.

\------

When Logan curled into him, a heavy weight that Anders wouldn't be able to shift even if he wanted to he gave a breathless chuckle and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. There was a little niggling worry that he'd done something wrong, that he'd been too sincere, too open, and killed the mood.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked gently, hand tracing warm circles on Logan's shoulder while he lay still, letting him explore. He lifted his head to kiss Logan's hair, breathing warm and trying to steady himself at this new, slower current. This wasn't the same want that had Logan grinding into his leg against the door, talking about Anders voice as fantasy material.

And that was fine, so long as Anders hadn't done anything to ruin it.

\------

"Yeah," Logan sighed, a warm, happy, breathless word. He stroked his fingers up and down Anders' side, every part of it he could reach anyways, and shifted so his free arm curled under between Anders' shoulders and the bed. He'd just started planting pen-mouthed kisses around Anders' sternum when the worried note that had been in that question finally registered. He raised his head to peer at Anders' face.

But Anders seemed fine, loose-limbed and breathing steadily beneath him, and Logan tilted his head and tried to decide how to explain this new - well, not entirely new - want in his chest like a strange knot of slippery mushy _feelings_. 

He said, "I want..." and his voice came out low and gravelly, so he cleared his throat and tried again. Then he frowned, because...words... and he wasn't exactly sure how to say what he wanted, or how much, except, "I'm pretty sure the scope of what I want goes way beyond having you suck me off and whisper dirty things to me."

\------

Anders blushed deeper at that, eyes closing as he winced for a second. "I did say that, didn't I?" He grimaced as he reopened his eyes and leaned up to kiss Logan, a soft, sweet, apologetic press of his lips. He leaned back, his free hand brushing knuckles over Logan's heart. "I promise, I'll... cool it?"

He winced again. "That sounded stupid. I'm fine with whatever you want, Logan, that's what I meant. We could just sit here and snuggle until we fell asleep, or..." He smirked, lopsided and wry, because now that Logan had pretty expressly declined the offer of a blowjob it seemed tacky to mention it again. "Or, more." 

The low light made his eyes gleam, burnished, like they held their own inner light as he looked at Logan. "As long as I'm here." He hugged Logan tightly, bringing them chest to chest for a moment, skin warm and soft as he arched to increase the contact. "As long as I'm with you, everything else is just... icing. On a very strange cake."

\------

"No, no, I mean, I _liked_ the idea, I just don't want you to do that _right now_." 

Logan didn't pull away from the kiss, his hand coming up to cup Anders' jaw, but he did wrinkle his nose when Anders pulled back. "You need to stop apologizing so much, my love, I'm not unhappy with you, not even close, I just..." He bit his lip and blinked several times in rapid succession. "I don't think I can adequately explain to you how much I mostly want to - to cherish you, make love to you, hold you." 

"Which sounds... ridiculous, I know, but..." Logan shrugged, fixed his eyes on Anders' lovely gleaming ones like he could just will Anders to understand how much he meant to him, how much he wanted to give him. Cherish was a ridiculous romance novel sort of word, but Anders deserved to know how utterly Logan was in love with him. All of him. Not just his absurdly sexy voice and shockingly amazing body.

His breath hitched when Anders arched against him and held him tighter, and he slid forward to kiss Anders again.

\------

Anders' smile was possibly the soppiest expression he'd ever worn when Logan said the word _cherish_ , not even a whit of cynicism in it for once. "It's not ridiculous," he breathed as Logan's lips met his again.

He kissed him back with slow brushes of his tongue, teasing, tender presses of his lips, holding him so tightly for long enough his arms were starting to shake from where he'd lifted himself slightly off the mattress. He released his grip and settled back, mouth trailing away, and murmured, "I'm not used to it being more than the physical stuff. I mean, I haven't been with anyone at all in a long time, but when I was younger I did a lot of stupid things with the wrong people." He flushed and looked away, chewing on the inside of his lip for a moment. 

"Not apologizing, just explaining." He leaned up for another quick press of his lips. "I'm not used to... cherishing." His ridiculous, sentimental smile came back, a slow, delighted grin.

\------

Logan nodded at the explanation, met every press of Anders' lips with a brush of his own, the hand under Anders' back holding him close until at last Anders sank back. 

"I'm not really either," he said, setting his chin on Anders' chest. "Or... Not really, anyways. I thought it was, but..." He exhaled. "The point being, I'm madly in love with you, Anders." He reached up to brush some of Anders' hair behind his ear and got an adoring smile on his face, a softer, smaller reflection of the one Anders was still wearing.

\------

Anders' eyes closed when Logan touched his hair again, leaning into gentle brush of his fingers. "You're too bloody good to be true, you know that?" He cracked his eyes open as if checking that he was still there, and ran his palm in a slow stroke over the back of Logan's head, down his neck and over his shoulders.

\------

Logan grinned happily and pressed his lips to Anders' chest. He wriggled around to free his arm from under Anders' shoulders, since it was beginning to tingle all over, and then he smoothed that hand up over the musculature of Anders' chest to curve over his shoulder. He kept petting through Anders' hair slowly, since he seemed to like that.

And then he bent and started kissing his way up Anders' chest, following the edges of his muscles, paying special attention to the most prominent of his freckles, licking and sucking and dragging his lips but always just skirting around his nipples, teasing.

\------

Anders was a sucker for being pet, and Logan's fingers in his hair was turning him into a puddle, one slow pass at a time. His hair was also a wreck from being dunked and then flash dried when he summoned his magic the first time, so it couldn't get any worse for being finger-combed and mussed about. 

When Logan's warm, wet mouth met the skin of his chest he gasped softly, just a tiny intake of breath, and then chuckled shakily. "God, Logan." He looked down, arching slightly, marveling at the way his warm brown skin shown against his pasty white, and wet his lips. He cupped the back of Logan's neck, fingers curling tenderly just under his ear, and let out a little moan when his mouth teased near his nipple.

\------

Logan hummed, his lips curving; he could feel Anders relaxing underneath him, feel the rise of his chest when he gasped. He kissed around the edges of his pectoral muscle for a while longer and then abruptly closed his mouth over Anders' nipple. He flicked it once, twice, again, with his tongue and then drew the peaked tip between his lips and, very gently, scraped over it with his teeth.

He dropped the hand still toying with Anders' hair to run his palm up and down the opposite side of his chest, a slow drag of just slightly rough hand over Anders' soft skin.

\------

Anders was truly relaxing into the slow, diffuse tease of Logan's gentle kisses, and then he did that thing with his tongue over his nipple. It was unexpected and fantastic and this time his gasp was rough and throaty that ended on a whine when Logan's teeth met his skin. 

He dropped both of his hands to Logan's shoulders, one hand kneading against the muscle, the other biting in with just the barest hint of his nails, as if trying to figure out where to hang on. He arched again, shifted his hips, and one of his legs curled over Logan's, foot running down the outside of his thigh.

\------

Logan gave a throaty, self-satisfied chuckle, his wandering hand finally settling on Anders' chest and toying with his other nipple. 

And then Anders was arching under him, hips bucking up against Logan's lower belly and Logan felt his leg curl around him and oh, oh god. He pulled off Anders' nipple with a wet pop and a gasp, warm breath drifting over Anders' damp skin, and rocked his hips forward involuntarily against Anders' thigh.

\------

"Logan. Come here." Anders curled forward and tried to capture Logan's mouth with his, hands catching at the sides of his face. His voice held a desperate hungry quaver. 

"Need to kiss you." He nipped at Logan's lips, tongue a wicked flick against the slight sting. "Please, love."

\------

Logan surged upward, a sharp desperate hunger ignited inside him at the quaver in Anders' voice. He curled a hand round the back of Anders' neck and bent to kiss him worshipfully, fervently. He groaned Anders' name against his lips, tongue reaching to twine, stroke, with his.

\------

Anders kept one hand on Logan's face, the other sliding up until his arm was curled around his neck, pulling tighter and closer. His other leg hooked around Logan's hips arching his hips up and dragging him closer, a fragile, needy whimper in his throat.

\------

"Fuck, Anders," Logan groaned, hips bucking against Anders', and they were so close, only two thin layers of fabric between them. Logan could feel Anders' arousal against him and he let out a soft gasp when their cocks aligned, rubbed together through their shorts. 

He forgot how to breathe, forgot how to think, knew only need and want and Anders. He wanted to kiss every inch of him, wanted to feel him against him without anything between them. 

"Anders," he moaned again, because it was, it was Anders, against all reason, all hope. He lowered his head to kiss and suck at the skin of Anders' neck, tried to bury his face there and inhale him and get even closer than they already were.

\------

Anders rolled his hips under Logan as he bucked, the drag even through cloth too good to ignore, their cocks sliding against each other, heat and pressure. 

He tipped his head, arching his neck and giving access to his throat when Logan moved his mouth there, his pulse rapid and hard under his lips. "God, Logan, fuck." He tightened his legs around Logan's hips, locking his feet together and using that leverage to grind up against him. 

He was so hard now, aching, a damp spot growing against the tip of his cock where it brushed against the cotton of his briefs with each twitch. His fingers rubbed down Logan's shoulders, over the broad, strong muscles of his back, dragged up to the back of his neck, where he cupped his jaw.

\------

Logan gasped, moving to tuck his forehead under Anders' chin instead of kiss the skin there. His arm snaked around behind Anders' back, able to wrap all the way around his waist and clutch him tightly. His other hand drifted up and down Anders' shoulder and upper arm, rubbing. 

He was - god, he could not remember the last time he had been so hard, his boxers too growing damp, and the slide and press of their cocks together was good, was everything, but it wasn't enough. 

"Anders," he panted, "Anders, love, please, I - I need-" He whined, pulled Anders tighter against him with his arm, moved his hand down to the waistband of Anders' boxers, all without stopping the desperate thrusting of his hips.

\------

Anders fingernails bit in just a touch, not hard enough to scratch, he just needed, somehow, to grip Logan tighter. He groaned as the arm circled his waist, pulling him in tighter, nodding over Logan's head. 

"Yes, Logan, please." Anders wanted to touch him, to be touched by him. "Anything, love, whatever you need." And maybe that was a dangerous promise, but he couldn't think of a single thing that he thought Logan would actually ask for that he wouldn't want. 

He reached down to slide his hand under the back of Logan's waistband, hand gripping a palmful of his bare ass this time, hot, soft skin over hard muscle.

\------

"God, you're amazing." Logan mumbled, his voice filled with awe and disbelief. He was just starting to shift both hands down to Anders' hips when he grabbed a handful of his ass, and then that, that was amazing, Anders' hand kneading and touching and holy shit Logan had forgotten what that did to him. 

His breath came in soft gasps that quickened as Anders continued to touch him, and his fingers hooked into the hem of Anders' waistband, and pulled them down over his ass in one swift motion. His cock sprung free, and Logan shoved the boxers down as far as he could reach and then abandoned them in favor of wrapping his hand around Anders' length, his thumb catching the pre-come at the tip and spreading it.

\------

"Let me..." Anders had dropped his legs so that he could help wriggle out of his shorts when Logan's hand closed around his cock and he curled forward, pressing his mouth into the shoulder above him, muffling strangled groan of pleasure. 

He let his head fall back onto the bed, panting. "Off." His hands tugged at Logan's own underwear, unable to reach far enough to tug them down. "Both of us. All the way off. Please." That came out a whine as he bucked into Logan's hand

"Please, if I don't get to touch you I'm going to actually die right here in this bed." He kissed Logan's brow, his cheek, his chin in frantic succession.

\------

"Well-" Logan huffed, "there's - there's no need to get - dramatic." He was grinning even as he panted, looking smug because yes that was the goal, giving one last twist of his wrist and then letting Anders go so he could yank down his own boxers and kick them off to land somewhere on the floor with the rest of their clothes.

He pulled Anders' shorts the rest of the way off while he was at it. Then he scooted up the bed and knelt by Anders' side. He took himself in hand, stroked a few times, biting his bottom lip to keep from letting out a groan. He raised both eyebrows and grinned. "There. Naked."

\------

"You know I'm dramatic," Anders muttered as he kicked his way out of his shorts, trying hard not to knee Logan in the face. And then he was kneeling next to him, hand on his own cock, and Anders forgot how to breath. 

He let his eyes skate up Logan's body, meeting his eyes, lips parted and red from kissing, flushed and tousled. "Jesus, Logan," he breathed. He sat up halfway, one arm propped under him while the other reached to trail long, nimble fingers along the underside of Logan's cock, eyes tracking his reaction.

\------

"Yes," Logan agreed, still grinning, and then he forgot how to be cheeky, because. Holy. Shit. Anders, mussed and disheveled and practically glowing, he was magnificent, he was glorious, he was...all Logan's. Logan's breath caught in his throat, an intense wave of possessiveness swamping him.

His heart pounded in his chest, and Anders' fingers against his cock made his knees weak where he knelt. He inhaled raggedly and fixed wide adoring blue eyes on Anders' face, then took Anders' hand and guided it to his cock, whispered, "Please don't stop, Anders. Fuck. Fuck, love, you're beautiful."

\------

Anders with his clever fingers and long hands drew several slow strokes up and down after Logan shifted his hand onto the shaft. He passed his fingers over the crown, circled round the edge of the head, and then gripped to stroke back down. 

"Logan, _you're_ beautiful." He sat the rest of the way up and pressed a wet, heavy kiss over Logan's heart against his chest. "Do you want to lie back down?" he asked, voice a soft brush and buzz against Logan's skin as he trailed his lips to his nipple and then licked with the tip of his tongue.

\------

Logan's head tipped back, exposing his throat, as Anders' fingers stroked him. His hips bucked on the downstroke, and he ran his palm over the back of Anders' head when he bent to kiss his chest. 

"I, ah, hmm, yes, I think I might at some point fall over if I - if you - yes." He exhaled, bobbed his head slightly. His pupils were blown wide. 

He gave the bed a considering look and then, after some wiggling, flopped down in the spot Anders had just vacated. "C'mere." He tugged at Anders' hips meaningfully.

\------

"Please don't fall. I don't think my dignity could survive being crushed by you." Anders grinned as Logan wiggled and flopped down onto the bed, and then moved as Logan tugged, ending straddling his hips. 

One of his hands was on Logan's chest, propping him up as he leaned forward to kiss him. His hand gave slow, firm squeezes on Logan's cock, and his own was nestled right up against it, grinding the bases together with a slight flex of his hips. "Here?" he asked as he broke the kiss. "Is this where you wanted me, love?"

\------

"I'm worried about a little more than just your dignity, darlin'," Logan drawled, grinning.

"I...yes, oh god yes, that's perfect." 

Logan reached for Ander' cock, strong, broad fingers wrapping firmly, and then he matched Anders' pace, his other hand reaching around to grip and knead his ass.

\------

Anders arched back as Logan's hand took up the same rhythm, head falling back, the long bow of his pale body rising and falling on Logan's hips, like he was riding him. 

He stuttered as his knuckles dragged against Logan's and he shifted slightly. "Here, love." He switched hands so he could lace their fingers together, hands holding them both at once, guiding the pace of the slow strokes and letting Logan's hips set the rhythm of the thrusts. 

"Okay?" he gasped out, going down onto his forearm on Logan's chest so he could brush a kiss against his lips, changing the angle of the pressure against Logan's cock.

\------

"Yes, definitely more than okay," Logan gasped, thrusting steadily into the circle of their fingers. He watched Anders sway, riding and falling, above him, admired the line of his body and the haze of pleasure in his eyes. He reached his free hand to tangle in Anders' hair as he dropped down for a kiss, kissed him back with lips and tongue and a hint of teeth, possessive and greedy and eager. "God, I love you, Anders."

\------

Anders groaned into the rougher kiss, giving a little extra roll and buck of his hips. "I love you, Logan. So much." He nipped at Logan's lower lip, grinning. "And I love your hand all tangled in my hair." 

There were dirtier things he almost said, but this was wonderful and warm and Logan was delicious. The heat and want in his belly were coiling tighter as he lapped into Logan's mouth with a hungry groan.

\------

Logan laughed, surprised, a short clear sound. There was a moment where he wanted to tease, to say how easily pleased Anders was, but the simple honesty did a curious sort of thing to his libido. His hips bucked up higher into their hands and he said, pleased and breathless, "Yeah?" 

And the little noises Anders was making were fantastic. Logan ran his fingers through to the ends of Anders' hair and back to his scalp, scratching lightly with blunt nails. He opened his mouth to Anders' tongue, drew him closer into the warmth and damp of his mouth with short, teasing licks. He was making soft, eager noises himself, knew little beyond the heat curling low inside him and the fact that he never, ever wanted this to stop.

\------

The sound of Hawke's laugh, the one that was surprise and delight, made Anders' heart tighten and squeeze as he nodded his agreement. He thrust with Logan, squeezing and stroking, having a hard time leaving room between them for their arms, so completely did he want to align with Logan and sink into him. 

He passed this thumb over the head of his own cock, smearing pre-come from it to Logan's, a clever slick circle before he returned to gripping and stroking. He broke the kiss to pant, nose pressed against Logan's cheek, breath hot on his skin. He was aware again of the coil of magic inside him, the pool of mana was shifting and pulsing as it responded to his pleasure, his want, and his hair was starting to stand on end on his arms. "Love you so much." He scraped his teeth against the line of Logan's jaw. "Do you want to come with me like this, Logan?"

\------

Logan wondered briefly, as Anders sank across his chest, if the angle would soon become uncomfortable for him, his arm trapped as it was between their bodies, but for himself Anders was light and thin against him, and then Anders did that smearing thing with his hand and most of his conscious thought vanished in the hum of pleasure under his skin. 

He was warm, warmer even than he should have been, though it did not occur to him to think that it might be the buzz of his magic inside him, heat and fire and lightning as it had always been in game. Instead he whined, loud and needy, at the scrape of Anders' teeth against the scruff on his jaw, throwing his head back against the pillows. 

"God, oh god, yes, yes, please Anders," he moaned, pretty sure he had never wanted anything more in his life. His desire was pooling low in his body, coiling with the heat all across his skin. The hand in Anders' hair slipped down to grip at his shoulder, palm sweaty against Anders' skin, and he turned his head, settling for an open-mouthed kiss against Anders' brow as he shuddered and panted.

\------

At Logan's moaned pleas Anders increased the pace of his hand guiding them, shorter, more frenetic strokes, gasping as he did so. He turned to catch Logan's mouth with his own, the kiss messy and wet, no finesse, but desperate as he moaned. 

The pressure of the energy inside him was coiled as tight as the pleasure and all he wanted, with a need that made his throat thicken and his eyes sting, was to make Logan feel good. He wasn't even conscious of it, the warm, buzzing energy that rose to his fingers, his palms, one hand on their cocks that made him cry out, the other closing the circuit on Logan's chest, a brilliant flare of intensity that sensitized everything the energy passed over. 

He keened at the sensation, hips stuttering, rhythm failing, and broke the kiss to stare down at Logan with gleaming eyes. "Fuck, yes, please, love, you're so perfect. Come for me."

\------

"Oh god oh god oh please," Logan keened when the pace of Anders' hand quickened, his own hand on Anders' cock moving swifter to match the pace, babbling, aware he was begging but not able to stop it. He wanted to come apart under Anders, to show him what this man, this beautiful, beautiful man did to him, and make Anders do and feel the same.

And then there was all that flaring buzzing pleasure, sweeping from Logan's chest where Anders' arm touched him down to their joined hands over their cocks, and Logan cried out and arched his back and the hot sweaty magic just lingering under his own skin burst out, pulled forth at their hands by Anders' magic. It crackled between them, pale blue light and sensation like short, intense static, swept up every inch of Logan's already sensitized skin, licked at Anders where they touched. Logan whimpered, his whole body seizing with the pleasure-pain of it, and then his cock was pulsing, thick spurts of come coating their hands and their bellies. He trembled violently.

\------

The crackle of energy, the feeling of Logan coming apart underneath him, the sensation of his skin and his magic, and everything in between, all of it tore through Anders so that he was coming just a beat after Logan, arching and bearing down and crying out in something nearly a sob as his ability to do more than squeeze and grind was lost. 

He was lost, nothing but pleasure and love and need for more of the man he was slowly rocking to stillness against, the sticky-slick between their cocks easing the glide as they shuddered in aftershocks. He collapsed against Logan's chest, shoulders trembling, panting and trying to blink away the tears that were welling from it all be so much. So _good_. 

Just like Logan was good. He buried his face in his shoulder, kissing gently, free hand moving up to cup Logan's cheek.

\------

Logan brushed the palm of his free hand over the back of Anders' head and then, after a moment, tangled his fingers lightly in his hair. His shaking gradually eased, and then he was turning his face towards Anders', brushing his lips over his brow, his cheek, his chin. 

"Anders," he murmured, sighed, the word gentle and warm and happy and worshipful all at once.

\------

The soft, tender voice Logan used to say his name made Anders open his eyes, turning back toward him. His lashes were wet, smile soft, with a slight quiver in his lower lip. "Wow," he whispered, shivering and breathless.

\------

Logan nuzzled into him, his hand moving to brush in slow sweeps down Anders' back. He wore a nearly identical smile, soft and warm, his blue eyes impossibly adoring on Anders' face.

"Not sure I could put it any better," he whispered back.


	4. Chapter 4

"Be right back." Anders kissed him softly and then carefully pushed himself up and then off of Logan's hips, plopping to sit next to him, lanky and awkward in the small space between Logan and the edge of the bed. There was a sideboard near the door, with a basin and pitcher, and a small stack of linen towels that caught his eye. He levered up, legs wobbly and grabbed the towel. The pitcher was empty, and he frowned at it. "You know any water summoning spells?" he asked amiable, a giddy sort of laughter prickling in his chest. 

The pale skin of his back was turned toward Logan, and he had stripes of scars crisscrossing it, more than a handful, from the tops of his shoulderblades to his ass. Some of them, that Logan had seen before, curled around the ribs on the left side.

\------

Logan caught his breath at the sight of the scars, far more and nastier than he would have guessed from the ones he'd seen earlier. He'd thought he'd felt something under his fingertips just now, petting down Anders' back, but actually seeing them? That was...different. That was like a blow to his gut, that anyone could hurt Anders so badly. He felt a sudden rush of rage at whoever had done this, hot and fierce and burning. His head swam. 

"Afraid not," he said, attempting to make his voice light and joking. It still came out strained. "I seem to be mostly adept at setting things on fire, not the opposite." He touched the fingers of his clean hand to Anders' back, and they were hot to the touch. Logan pulled his hand back quickly before the magic he could feel building up from his anger spilled out, managing to keep the small ball of lightning mostly in his palm, although it did skitter out of his control and slam into the opposite wall. It left a small circle in the wood paneling blackened and smoking.

\------

Anders had been concentrating on the basin, trying to figure out if he could do ice. He did ice just fine in game. Could he do ice? He had started to raise his hand when Logan's fingers brushed over his back and then suddenly his hair was standing up all over and he flinched at the small bolt that hit the wall.

He spun, staring at Logan, not in fear, that never even crossed his mind. Just concern. "God, Logan, are you okay?" He wiped his sticky hand rapidly on the towel, and then reached for the other man, eyes wide. "Love?"

\------

Logan scooted back, away from Anders' reach, although with a remorseful expression that made it look like the action physically pained him. He shook his head, blue eyes wide. "Don't. I don't want to hurt you." He gave his hand a black look, fear and frustration and anger bleeding through him, and slumped, cradling his hand to his chest as if that would shield Anders from it.

He took a deep breath, ground his teeth together, breathed again. "Fine, I'm fine," he muttered, trying to shove his magic and his rage, all together, back down inside him and seal it away tightly. This was...this was a problem. In game, he'd always had such mastery of his magic, but here? Here it was bound to his emotions so tightly he was afraid he would burst with it. And wasn't that ironic. All that anger he'd thought he'd gotten so good at keeping to himself, anger at himself for abandoning his family when they needed him, anger at his mom for blaming him for his dad's death, anger at Rowan for all his shit, anger at all the conservative assholes he'd worked for and worked with over the years, anger at himself for never being able to just...be who he really was. And now for Anders' sake...

There was so much anger in him - he was practically boiling with it. It was no wonder Varric had never seen fit to tell Logan that he had Anders right within his reach. He was a toxic, bleeding mess, and now physically dangerous as well. Wasn't that just grand. He gave a short, bitter laugh.

\------

The expression that Logan wore as he pushed away made Anders flinch, and then his mouth set into a steady line, eyes narrowing just a touch. "You're bloody not fine," he said sharply, moving onto the bed with clear intent. His eyes studied Logan, trying to figure out what had happened... what he had done. 

He sat down, with a leg curled underneath him, and the other on the floor. He wanted to touch Logan, but if he didn't want that, he wouldn't press. He wasn't going to force anything on him. "Logan, please, talk to me." His voice turned soft, worried, almost pleading. "Did I do something?" 

His mind worked furiously, ticking off the last few minutes, between mind-blowing orgasms and sudden withdrawn rejection of his touch. He hadn't seen what had sparked... his back had been to Logan, and... oh. 

"Oh." He turned away, scrambling to find his mostly dry button down in the pile of clothing, hands shaking as he struggled to right it so he could pull it on.

\------

Logan shook his head forcefully, hugging both arms to his chest now, ignoring the mess still on his one hand. "No, not you, love, it's - it's me, I..." He bit his bottom lip hard, closing his eyes, still trying to tame the wild, dangerous emotions and magic coursing through his veins. 

He opened them again at Anders' soft 'oh' and then seeing him fumbling for his shirt made him feel like he was choking, choking on his own stupidity and fears and old, old anger. His heart ached, and without conscious thought he was reaching for Anders again, trying to take the shirt from his hands. 

"Anders - don't - you don't have to hide, I - I'm sorry, I-" Stupid. Stupid. God, he was an idiot, seeing Anders' scars, and then making his intense emotional reaction all about him when it was Anders who had been hurt, not him. Logan looked down and noticed how close he was to Anders again, hand just an inch or two from Anders' wrist, and he flinched and pulled away again, not confident in his ability to control himself.

\------

"It makes people uncomfortable. I know. I should have... said something. I didn't think. They're old, and I forget, and..." Anders swallowed hard once Logan had flinched away from him again, looking ill. He tugged the shirt on, jaw working, before he looked carefully at Logan, his misery. 

"I'm sorry, Logan." He worked on buttoning the shirt. "I should have warned you. And before you ask, you don't have to worry, I didn't get them from being into 'kinky shit'." He forced his tone to be light, his smile a little stiff, but earnest as he looked at Logan. He extended a hand carefully onto the bed, an inch or two away from Logan's hip, but didn't try to touch him. 

Had it really been his last attempt at a boyfriend who'd said that? He rubbed at his eyes, grimacing, trying to fight back the sting of tears and thinking about that disaster and a half, the disgust and discomfort, layered under a bad joke about spanking Anders and being called daddy. He raked his other hand through his hair.

\------

Logan rubbed at his jaw. He should stop, should let him think disgust was all this was - it would be _safer_ that way, with Anders away from his volatile temper and utter fucking inability to be what anybody deserved. There was Rowan's voice, laughing and taunting in his head: _C'mon, baby, I thought you loved me? Why you gotta hide it?_ and then there was Anders, looking sick and unhappy and trying to hide it, and he deserved better than Logan and all his fuck-ups, but Logan was as selfish as he was angry and he couldn't stand that look on Anders' face.

"Not...uncomfortable," he muttered, forcing himself to look Anders in the eye. "They don't make me _uncomfortable_ , Anders. They make me _enraged_. I told you I'm-" he gave that bitter, short laugh again, "- I'm an angry person." His hand moved towards Anders, fell back in his lap. "Who did this to you?" he asked, voice going soft, and then he closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, never mind, fuck. You don't have to tell me. You don't have to talk about it."

\------

Anders had gotten used to different reactions. Pity, disbelief, disgust, a general impersonal discomfort. He'd had a very few people hear the story, see the scars, and their reaction had been _understanding_. Anger on his behalf wasn't something Anders was used to. He met Logan's eyes with brows arched in surprise, lips parted and then swallowed when Logan asked and immediately recanted his question. 

"I'll tell you," he answered quietly. "But you have to hold my hand while I do it." His smile was shaky, but less wooden as he watched Logan's face. It was an old hurt, and he could usually talk about it just fine, but if Logan wouldn't touch him, he wasn't going to be able to make it through.

\------

Logan flexed his fingers and looked down at his hand, then back up at Anders' face. 

"All right," he said, wary but also wanting. "But if I start feeling like I'm going to set your hair on fire, I'm going to let go, okay?" He blew out a breath and gestured. "This - the fire and lightning especially - seem to be tied to my emotions. I'm normally better at keeping it together, but then I'm not normally able to set things on fire with my mind. So."

\------

"Since I prefer not to lose any of my hair, I can accept those terms." Anders reached out slowly, but without wariness, just trying not to make Logan any jumpier than he was, and slid his hand carefully into his. His other hand, he grabbed up the towel he'd discarded and handed it to Logan. "Just in case you wanted to get rid of all that mess I left you with." 

He took a deep breath, twitching the front line of buttons on his shirt, and then looked over, brown eyes sad, a little bitter, but mostly just resigned. "Have you ever heard of those parents that use biblical discipline?" His lower lip pouted slightly as he chewed the inside. "Like it's some sort of parenting trend? That was my father, ages before it was cool."

\------

Logan brushed at the drying mess with the towel in his free hand, which helped somewhat, but not entirely, and then wrinkled his nose and dropped the towel on the bed beside him. He squeezed Anders' hand and then started rubbing his thumb in broad circles over Anders' knuckles. 

"A little," he said. "My mom was pretty religious. My dad, not so much. They started trying to make us go to church when we finally settled in Lothering. Three years of that was about enough for me; all that 'man shall not lie with man' shit and I pretty effectively tuned them out. Caught a few buzz words and ideas, which I've done my best to forget."

\------

"Every once in a while you'll hear about them on the news, the extreme ones. I can't remember what the name of the book is, but it's a play on the old 'spare the rod and spoil the child' but that was my father's manual. And he certainly didn't spare the rod." Anders shrugged his shoulders weakly, rolling them, feeling the pull in the scars that was so old he barely felt it anymore. 

"Change camp came when I was very young, only twelve I think. I was never very good at hiding. And my father was a mean sack of shit who was suspicious of everything." Anders shrugged again. "I ran away. He caned me." He gestured to his back, the now hidden scars. "I ran away again. His house burned down. I got put in the foster system. I ran away a lot from situations that were bad, and ones that were probably better than I deserved"

\------

Logan tried hard to keep a neutral expression on his face as he listened, but his blue eyes glittered coldly the longer Anders went on, his jaw clenching. 

"Change camp?" he asked in disbelief, a growl in his voice, his hand tightening around Anders'. He flinched at Anders' last statement, about what he deserved, not able to come up with a good rebuttal against that except a wordless noise of objection. His eyes fastened on Anders', indignant.

\------

Anders shifted to put a hand on Logan's knee, fingers stroking in a soothing circle. "Camp. Yeah. That sucked. I guess it didn't stick though. " He shrugged smile lopsided and a little shaky. 

"Some of the foster families were terrible. Others were good people who I refused to be civil to." He ducked his head. "I was angry and scared and even though I was loud about being out and queer... I still believed a lot of the shit my dad wanted me to think about myself. " 

He sighed heavily. "I wanted to run away from anyone I could disappoint just as badly as I wanted to get away from the people who might hurt me.

\------

Logan shifted closer, the need to be near Anders overwhelming his fear of hurting him. He stretched out with his other hand, hesitated, then continued, cupping Anders' cheek and lifting his head slightly. The tips of his fingers combed through the hair above Anders' eat.

He wanted to pull him to his chest or into his lap or _something_ , but he wasn't sure that was allowed. Or safe, for that matter. He licked his lips like he might say something and then settled for a small nod, his eyes intent and gentle on Anders' face.

\------

Some of then tension in Anders' shoulders fled when Logan touched his face and he hummed softly as he pressed into the touch. 

His eyes were still concerned, but they weren't worried in the same way. "I promise it wasn't something I was hiding from you, Logan. I just didn't want it to be up for discussion by the whole guild. " He wet his lips, some of the worry welling back. "I wasn't a very good person? I think Varric probably has more details than I'm usually comfortable with, and maybe that's why he never said we you were so close by."

He cleared the sudden thickness in his throat.

\------

Logan kept up with the gentle petting of his fingers through Anders' hair, his head tilting. "I didn't think you were hiding it from me, love, and even if I had - well. It's not like you had to tell me right away. It's okay."

His expression changed when Anders grew worried again, going tight and closing off slightly. He pulled his hand away and sat back, though he didn't pull away from the hand Anders was still holding. 

"Or maybe he thought it was in your best interest, after all the shit you've been through, to keep you away from the volatile closeted guy with some unaddressed anger issues," he muttered, staring down at his lap, frustration and self-loathing tangling together in the set of his mouth and the crease in his brow.

\------

"Logan." Anders felt like his heart was breaking. Was this the way it ended already for them? Hawke convinced that he was poison because he'd been mad that somebody hurt someone he cared about. He shifted until he was kneeling up, creeping an inch closer. "I want to hug you but I don't want to upset you. Can I? Please, love?"

\------

Logan looked up with some surprise, his brow furrowing, the desolate look on Anders' face feeling like a hand had reached inside his chest and gripped his heart hard. He gave a flex of his fingers and nodded.

"Yeah - yeah, of course. I'm not going to singe you right now, I don't think." He smiled weakly.

\------

Anders tumbled into his lap in his haste to get his arms around Logan. He was trembling as he wrapped them around his neck, drawing him into a tight hug, one hand cupping the back of Logan's head.

It was both comforting, and seeking comfort and Anders was probably going to strangle Logan if he didn't get hugged back. "It doesn't make you bad to want to protect people you love, Logan."

\------

Logan rocked back slightly as Anders tumbled into him, letting out a grunt, but his strong arms came up to wrap around Anders in return firmly. He wanted to believe him, did believe him really, but it didn't make anything totally better, didn't erase the voice inside his head telling him Anders deserved so much more than Logan was capable of giving him.

"You're shaking," he whispered, hugging Anders tighter.

\------

"I just want you to know that whatever you need, Logan, I'm... I'm here for you." Anders was trying not to cry, whispering as well to hide the wavering in his voice. "If it's too much, if I-- my past makes you too angry--" He had to breathe for a minute before he could continue. "I understand." 

He hugged Logan tighter, kissed the side of his head, and then drew back slightly. "You wouldn't be the first person in my life to decide it was more than they wanted to take on." His eyes were fixed in the middle of Logan's chest, staring at a freckle he hadn't even got to kiss. He chanced a glance up at his eyes. "And you have to do what's right for you."

\------

"Anders..." Logan's voice cracked. "I don't - I don't _care_ about your past, it doesn't scare me or make me want you any less, or - whatever." He pressed the heel of one hand to his eye. "Ugh. I don't - I don't know. I just, I shouldn't - there's so much about me that you deserve better than, but what _I_ want?"

He let go of Anders' waist to frame his face gently with both hands, and said, "The only thing I've wanted for a long time is you."

\------

Anders brows were drawn together in confusion for a moment as Logan spoke. He opened his mouth to protest about what he deserved but Logan's hands gently coming to both sides of his face made him falter, and flush as he listened further. 

"Then you let me worry about what I _deserve_. Because I want you." He ran his tongue over his lower lip and then smiled, lopsided. "I'll stop assuming you're going to break up with me because I'm a pain in the ass. You can trust that I see your worth even if you worry it isn't there, okay?"

\------

Logan dragged in a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes for a moment. This was what he had wanted; it was actually infinitely more than he had ever dreamed it could be, with Anders talking about his _worth_ and being with him even though he was still hiding, from his mother, from his anger, from himself. He would be damned if he was going to let it slip through his fingers right as soon as he'd gotten it, just because he was afraid. 

"Okay," he whispered. He opened his eyes and offered Anders a small, tentative smile. "Okay, love."

\------

Anders answering smile when Logan opened his eyes was warm and hopeful, and it bloomed brighter eyes gleaming, when Hawke agreed. He leaned forward to kiss Logan's forehead and then his nose. "Thank you." He rested their foreheads together for a moment, eyes closing. 

He was practically melting with relief, trying not to show how scared he'd been that Logan _was_ going to break up with him because he was a pain in the ass.

\------

Logan hummed, felt his heart full to bursting again with how happy Anders looked when he opened his eyes.

He smoothed his hands down over Anders' back, wrinkling the shirt he'd put back on a ridiculous amount, probably, and then finally let himself feel all the fear of losing Anders' he'd been shoving down while convincing himself he _should_ lose him. He dragged Anders tight to his chest and wrapped him in his arms. 

"Like I'm selfless enough to let you go so easily now I have you," he said, and the self condemnation in his voice was teasing now, lighter.

\------

Anders laughed softly as Logan pulled him closer, hugged him tighter, his own arms circling his neck again. He snorted when Logan poked at himself and shook his head. "Selfishest man I ever knew, you." 

He smirked and started undoing the buttons on the front of the shirt. "I'm taking this back off, because it's still not all the way dry, and I really didn't get enough snuggling in before things went all dark." And because he trusted Logan not to go running, screaming into the... night? Whatever it was outside. 

He wriggled out of the sleeves and tossed it off the bed.

\------

Logan gave a huff of laughter and shook his head slightly. He loosened his grip on Anders when he started to unbutton the shirt again, but only just.

"Good," he said, and then blushed, cheeks going just a touch darker. He flopped back against the pillows as Anders dropped the shirt aside, and then tugged at Anders' hand. 

There was...a wariness to his expression that hadn't been there before, but he was still looking at Anders like the entire earth revolved sound him, eyes warm and yes, needy.

\------

Anders was not shy when Logan tugged at him, sliding up against him until he was lying stretched to full length half on top of him. He had one knee on the bed next to Logan's thigh and a forearm on the pilow, but other than that he sprawled out, nuzzling into Logan's neck. 

"Okay?" he asked, a soft breath against Logan's earlobe. His arm wrapped around the broad chest under him and squeezed gently.

\------

Logan curled one arm under Anders' side, let his hands roam over Anders' back and shoulders and sides like he wanted to reassure himself that Anders was still there - which wasn't too far off, really. Finally he covered the arm Anders had wrapped around him with his free arm and sighed, "Yes."

He was silent for a while, hand stroking Anders' arm and wrist, and then he wiggled around and twitched the blankets up, settling them mostly over Anders. He kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry, love."

\------

Anders helped scoop the blankets up over him, making sure that Logan was covered as well. He hummed softly when Logan kissed his forehead that turned into a questioning grunt at the apology. His arms tightened briefly and then he tipped his head up to look at Logan with a quirked eyebrow. "You don't have anything to apologize for, Logan." He pressed a kiss to his collarbone, another to the side of his neck. "It's going to be all right." 

Anders wasn't used to being an optimist, but for Logan he would do a lot of stuff he normally wasn't stellar at, and he'd do it _well_ if it meant making him happy.

\------

Logan snorted softly because yes, he was pretty sure that he did after ruining their postcoital glow with talk about asshole fathers and unworthiness and shit. He tried to push the feelings of guilt away and focus on Anders, here, in his arms, apparently still wanting to be with him despite how much of a fuck-up he was, and it was odd but it was hard not to relax again, even if slowly, as Anders kissed his neck.

He reached to tip Anders' chin up and kissed him gently, murmured, "It's funny how when you say that I actually believe you."

\------

"Well, I'm very smart." Anders grinned as he kissed Logan back. "You _should_ believe me. Like when I say you're an amazing person. Or that you should definitely not wear shirts, like, ever." He kissed him again, this time sweeter, slower. 

When he drew back his smile was soft, eyes full of wonder and warmth. "I love you."

\------

Logan rubbed along Anders' shoulders and nuzzled their noses together. "I know you're smart, darlin'." He closed his eyes when Anders kissed him again, lips tender and gentle against his. 

"Ever, huh?" He opened his eyes with a smirk. "I think you're confusing me for Varric, with his tendency to leave like four buttons undone. For you, though, I think I can arrange to wear _fewer_ shirts, at the very least." He kissed Anders' forehead. 

"I love you more, probably," he said, blue eyes bright with teasing, his tone half-serious.

\------

"If that's true, I'm kind of obscenely lucky." Anders gave Logan another deep kiss. "As for Varric, maybe don't talk about his shirt buttoning habits when I'm trying to compliment _your_ chest, hmm?"

He ran his hand up Logan's chest, fingers dragging over his pectoral muscles with another soft hum of appreciation. "Fewer shirts I can live with. You'll get tired of me stretching them out from trying to climb inside them anyway." He grinned, eyes crinkling, just a tiny hopeful light in them hinting that he was trying very hard to distract Logan from his self-recriminations.

\------

Logan flushed, his cheeks a darker brown and his chest, under Anders' hand, abruptly warmer. He licked his lips and decided it was entirely better to not say anything at all.

And anyways then Anders was grinning at him and Logan noticed the crinkles around his eyes for the first time with delight. He brought up his hand to run his thumb gently over the crinkling skin at the corner of one eye and then said, with a tiny grin, "If you want to borrow my shirts, love, all you have to do is ask."

For his part he was entirely content to be distracted. God knew brooding over his tendency to be an idiot was never fun for anyone, least of all himself, even if he did have a hard time making himself stop it.

\------

"But they're just naturally better if you're _in_ them, sweetheart." Anders arched and stretched out on Logan. "You're the important part, not the shirt." He shimmied up just a little so that he could easily dip down and kiss Logan, mouth brushing and lingering, a tiny nip to his lower lip and then leaning up just as quickly if Logan tried to catch him, kiss him deeper, a gentle, playful teasing.

\------

Logan's breath hitched at all the sliding and stretching and touching that this sort of shimmy entailed, not really loud enough to be noticeable under normal circumstances, except that Anders was _right there_ and could probably even feel his chest rise. At the kiss, Logan cupped the back of Anders' head, but not firmly enough to prevent him from pulling back when Logan tried to chase his lips.

" _Anders_ ," he whined, bucking slightly under him, a needy twist to the way his fingers sank into Anders' hair.

\------

"Hmm?" Anders smile was coy as he licked his lips, not at all subtle as he teased. "Did you want something, Logan?" He dipped closer, kissed just the corner of Logan's mouth, but lingering in a way that let his breath heat skin, the tip of his tongue barely brushing where his lips had just been. 

He was still trying to figure Logan out, what he liked, what amused him, what aroused him. Did he like to be teased? Would he take control if pressed? Was he submissive? Anders wanted to be what Logan wanted, what he needed, and he didn't think Logan would just tell him. He'd have to experiment.

\------

Logan arched his neck, trying to kiss Anders back more deeply, get their lips to align _properly_ , but then there was just the tip of Anders' tongue against the corner of his lips, and Anders had moved back again. 

"You're a great bloody tease," he complained, just a hint of the growl he got when aroused in his voice. He was half-hard again under the blankets and the press of Anders' body.

\------

"That does sound a little like me," Anders agreed with a throaty chuckle. He gave a pleasant shiver at the growly note in Logan's voice and brushed his lips along the line of his jaw, just the barest whisper of contact. "You hate me yet?" he murmured against Logan's earlobe. 

His hand that had been wrapped tightly across Logan's chest roamed down to thumb over the edge of his hipbone.

\------

Logan frowned, his brows drawing down, a tiny furrow appearing between them. The hand in Anders' hair moved to cup his jaw instead, strong solid fingers holding him in place enough for Logan to catch his eye.

"Never, Anders. Never," he said, all blue eyed sincerity.

\------

The intensity of Logan's gaze made Anders' smirk dissolve into something shy and wondering. How could he have captured this much love from someone? _Him_? He flushed and wet his lips, smile a little shaky all of a sudden, overwhelmed with the sensation of someone _loving_ him. 

Not just wanting him and tolerating his quirks. Not only liking him just fine but not being in the market for a relationship. Not even finding friends with benefits a better solution because it didn't mean picking up all his baggage. Logan _loved_ him. 

"If looking at me like that is your plan to get me to stop teasing, it's working." He leaned down, not teasing this time, but tentative as he brought his mouth down to Logan's. He was great at play, but adoration was trickier. He didn't want to fuck it up.

\------

The hand Logan still had wrapped around Anders' bore down gently, pressing him closer, and the hesitant way in which Anders kissed him, really kissed him this time, just made Logan want to prove everything to Anders more. He pressed in steadily, gradually increasing the pressure of his lips against Anders', and then he broke off to kiss Anders' nose and both cheeks and the curve of his brow.

"You're giving me too much credit." He kissed down the line of Anders' jaw and then said, against the center of his throat, "I'm not that crafty."

\------

The kisses along his jaw, against his throat, made Anders' breath hitch and he laughed, a short shaky burst. "You seem to have designs right now. That you're executing. Very craftily." He tipped his chin back, stretching his neck, and giving Logan more access to the slender line. The hand that had been brushing over Logan's hipbone tightened on his hip, eyelids fluttering.

His cock was trapped between him and Logan's side, growing harder with each heartbeat, each tender brush of Logan's mouth.

\------

Logan hummed, not denying it, because maybe he hadn't been planning anything beyond a general shower of his affection to start, but he hadn't quite expected Anders to react so strongly either. There was a warm, needy, hungry knot in his stomach as he took advantage of Anders' tipped neck to lave attention there with lips and tongue, even scraped his teeth, just barely, over Anders' pulse. 

His hand drifted down Anders' side and over the swell of his ass, gripping firmly.

\------

The pleasure was almost languid compared to the urgency to touch and be touched earlier. Anders was still greedy for it, but he could bask in it, let Logan's mouth and hands guide his focus. 

He flexed his hips forward as Logan squeezed his ass, drawing a soft, pleased noise as he ground the ridge of his half-hard length almost idly against Logan's hip. "Oh god, Logan, you're going for to drive me crazy." He tipped his face back down to kiss him again, a slow, heated draw of his mouth.

\------

Logan grinned against Anders' mouth, nipped at his bottom lip and then soothed it with his tongue. He shifted to his side so they were chest to chest and then ran both his hands up and down Anders' back lightly, teasingly, lingering over and returning to the spots that seemed to make Anders' gasp lightly.

"It's only fair, darlin'," he whispered, voice growly again, growing harder himself at the flex of Anders' hips and the noises he was making.

\------

"Mm. Your voice is sin when you do that thing in your throat, you know?" Anders arched under Logan's hands and shivered as he slid an arm over Logan's waist, drawing them closer. "So are your hands. And your tongue." He caught Logan in a deep kiss and sucked on said tongue to demonstrate. 

He pulled back with a heated smile. "You're just temptation all over, sweetheart. "

\------

Logan laughed lightly, breathless, his fingers flexing against Anders' back. He let himself be tugged closer, nuzzling his forehead against Anders', moaning softly when Anders released his tongue.

"Aren't I supposed to be the charming one?" His top hand skimmed over Anders' ribs just softly enough to be teasing.

\------

"Are you implying I'm not charming?" Anders sounded mildly affronted but the glint in his eyes was full of humor. He knew he was generally too acerbic and sarcastic for most people. 

"I'd threaten to charm the pants off you but I kind of already did." He slid his hand down to squeeze Logan's ass, eyebrow arching suggestively.

\------

"Oh my god." Logan buried his face in Anders' neck and giggled, his fingers coming up to grip at Anders' shoulders. "That, yes, thank you, that was my point," he teased, voice muffled slightly against Anders' skin. His amusement didn't stop him from rocking his hips forward at the squeeze. 

"Also, I think I deserve credit for persuading the shirts off you first."

\------

The Logan's breath against his neck made Anders hum and arch, even as he tried to figure out how a man his size _giggled_. 

He squeezed tighter, rolling his hips forward gently with the way Logan rocked. "I'm having a hard time deciding if you're sexier or more adorable. And how do you do both at the same time?" He nuzzle into Logan's ear and sucked the lobe into his mouth.

\------

Logan exhaled, definitely rutting forward into Anders now, albeit slowly. 

"I'm pretty sure I've never been called adorable before," he said, surprise fading into something more like pleasure and amusement. And then Anders' mouth closed over his ear and he caught his breath, the hand that had been inching up Anders' chest swiping his thumb over Anders' nipple in retaliation.

\------

Anders hummed softly around Logan's earlobe, not wanting to be too loud when he was right there against his ear. He dragged it through his teeth in a gentle pull and then kissed down Logan's neck. He kept giving slow rolls of his hips as he did, just enough contact to tease Logan. 

"Well you are adorable. Because I adore you." He scraped his teeth against the tender spot where neck and shoulder joined and the pulled back, smirking, to meet his gaze. "See how that works?"

\------

Logan gasped when Anders' teeth scraped over his neck, louder than he meant to. He shifted to wedge one knee between Anders' thighs and then reached up, brushed the hair just above Anders' ear back from his face, smoothed it against the pillow. 

"Love..." Just that. He couldn't find anything else to say, any witty rejoinder to bring out in response. Anders was teasing, smirking, but he meant that; he really adored Logan, and Logan wasn't sure he trusted his voice to say anything back at all. He was used to people liking him, finding him useful, enjoying his company. But _adoring_ him? That was new, and this was Anders, and Logan was an ass, and Anders still meant it, and... Logan swallowed around the lump in his throat.

\------

The leg that pressed between his made Anders' smirk fail and his breath stutter and he bucked against it, some of the control gone from the slow roll of his hips.

He blushed as Logan petted his hair, looked at him so intensely. Anders had never been with anyone who was so naked in their responses to his affection before, that he could see the way he affected them so immediately and clearly. 

He leaned into Logan, mouth brushing his, in a wordless request. He could have just kissed Logan, but he instead he gave the invitation. Logan was temptation itself, but Anders still sought constant reassurance that what they were doing was mutual, consensual.

\------

Logan's fingers closed in Anders' hair at the gentle questioning brush of his lips, and he tilted his head at an angle before he kissed him back. His lips pressed slow but deft against Anders'. He shifted up, knee nudging higher between Anders' legs, nose bumping into his cheek, breath quickening, and then sucked Anders' lower lip into his mouth, running his tongue lightly over the swell of it.

\------

Anders let himself catch Logan's jaw as he kissed him, the hum in his throat becoming a moan as the knee between his legs pressed gently higher. He fought the urge to simply rut against it, instead lifting his upper leg and hooking it over Logan's hip and drawing him closer with a press of his calf. When Logan sucked on his lip, though, he lost his hold on that resolve and bucked against him, while his leg pressed Logan forward and he ground against him with another long throaty noise of pleasure.

\------

Logan released Anders' lip with a guttural moan when Anders ground against him. He tugged the arm still wrapped under and around Anders' side out and propped himself up with his elbow by Anders' head. 

"Fuck, Anders..." His hips rocked forward, losing their lazy rhythm from earlier, and he reached down to grip Anders' ass, pulling him closer, even as he shifted forward with the press of Anders' leg. That was enough to align their bodies just right, and Logan groaned again when their rutting brought their cocks together. He smoothed his hand over the sharp angle of Anders' hipbone and reached for them, running his fingers lightly over the ridge of Anders' cock first. 

With his other hand he went back to brushing through Anders' hair, despite the awkward angle with most of his upper body weight supported on his elbow.

\------

The combination of Logan's voice as he said his name, and the way their cocks slid together, dragged a needy little whine out of Anders. His hand slid to the back of Logan's head, arm curled around his neck, bringing their foreheads together, even as he arched and thrust against him. 

The brush of Logan's hand between them made him gasp, eyes warm as he looked at him from so close, pupils blown with pleasure. "Logan, love, please..." He wasn't sure even what he was asking for. More maybe? More contact, more kisses, more everything. More Logan.

\------

"Yeah, love..." Logan mumbled, and it was almost a question, but not, quite. He tilted his head back so he could kiss Anders on the nose, pulling back with a little grin, and then his hand between them was smearing pre-come to ease the slide of their cocks together. He gripped them both in his hand, a bit awkwardly, but still well enough because his hands were so big. He bit his bottom lip to keep from groaning as he settled into a rhythm, steady, and then he looked back into Anders' wide eyes and shifted his chest even closer, using his elbow to give him some leverage. 

"Like that, love? Tell me what you want, darlin'." His voice was deeper again, rumbling low in his chest and his throat, and he kissed Anders - a brief, somewhat sloppy press of his lips before he pulled back just as quickly. "Whatever you want."

\------

Being called darlin' in that low, rich, gravelly tone, was starting to do things to Anders. Or rather it was more than starting, and if this kept up, would do things to him for the rest of his bloody life. He gasped as Logan's big hand began to stroke them together, nodding in a jerky bob of his head. 

"Oh, god. Yes. Like that. Just... you. Yes." His fingers slid through Logan's close curls, scrubbing against his scalp as he hooked his leg tighter around his hips, using the leverage to thrust into the rhythm of his hand. 

Letting Logan lead the pace this time, letting him guide them-- it was perfect. His lips parted in a soft throaty whine when Logan's wrist shifted, angle and pressure changing subtly. It was so tender, and open, and it shouldn't have been this amazing, a dry frot in a straw-tick bed. "You're fucking perfect." He caught his mouth again, licking against his tongue in broad, hungry swipes.

\------

Logan nuzzled into the contact, his eyes closing slightly as Anders' fingers scritched against his scalp, and Anders' mumbled 'just you' made his stomach twist and his toes curl. Anders was...god, he was everything, and Logan was making him make those fantastic noises, and Logan was pretty sure he'd never had anything he'd wanted more in his life than this, exactly this, right now. 

Logan gave a skeptical laugh and was about to retort when Anders kissed him again. He groaned, increasing the speed with which he was stroking them both off, and between laps of their tongues he growled, "You're - perfect. Jesus."

\------

Anders had warned Logan that he could kiss for hours, and that had been a joke, sure, but kissing _Logan_ for hours? That was absolutely going to happen if he had anything at all to say about it. He shivered all over at the growl in Logan's voice, twitching harder into his hand with a breathless, "Fuck, oh fuck," as he stroked faster. 

He couldn't believe this, less than three hours ago, he'd thought he had absolutely no chance to ever even meet Logan, no chance in catching his interest at all, and now he was set to come in his hand for the second time inside an hour. It was giddy, and adolescent, and he fucking loved every second of it, because he _loved_ the man he was grinding against. 

Boneless, aching need, all pleasure, pure response. Anders couldn't remember the last time he'd been this taken to this extremity of _want_ by something so simple. He caught Logan's tongue, sucking on it with insistent pressure, made obscene by the way he moaned and rolled his hips.

\------

Logan was quickly melting into Anders. It was difficult to stay focused on anything but the sharp-warm-aching pleasure of it all, _Anders_ rutting against him, _Anders_ twitching into his hand, _Anders_ moaning and sighing and coming apart for him, _again_. He groaned under the suck of Anders' mouth on his tongue, pulling his head back insistently only when he couldn't breathe anymore because he was having a hard time concentrating enough to draw air through his nose. He dropped his forehead against Anders' to catch his breath, shivered all over, could feel the pleasure building in him, close but just out of reach, and his arm was going to start cramping in a minute at this half-cocked angle, he could feel it. 

He grunted and rolled them both abruptly until he was hovering over Anders, propped himself back up on the same elbow by Anders' shoulder, took a better hold of their cocks, brushing his thumb over the sensitive spot just below the head of Anders' cock as he did so.

\------

The abrupt motion that brought Anders under Logan made him cling, eyes wide and nearly black with want. Between that and the way Logan brushed his thumb over his cock, catching the sweet-sharp pleasure in the sensitized flesh brought him right to the edge. He leaned up so that he could press sloppy kisses and bites against Logan's neck and collarbone, his hand that had been trapped under them rising to rake over Logan's chest, nails too blunt to scratch, but the drag there as he tightened his arm and the leg that stayed stubborn around Logan's ass, lifting him half off the bed. 

"Fuck, Logan, sweetheart, I'm so close. Tell me when, love." His voice was needy, thready, he felt squirmy, the magic inside him rising, but he held it back and found this time it was easier to dampen it, to separate the sensations of his body from that strange new source of feeling and energy inside him.

\------

Logan gasped, abruptly struggling to keep back the magic that hummed under his skin and trailed back to that weird core of power inside him. At first he felt a surge of fear; that last discharge of magic had put a fucking hole in the wall and would definitely have hurt Anders if it had touched him. But then...whatever kind of magic Anders had let out last time had felt good, impossibly so, and so had that swell of crackling magic it had drawn from him. Maybe if he...

He pulled his hand away from them both for a moment and let the magic pool in his palm. He had to take several deep calming breaths before he felt clear-headed enough to force it back, keep it in check, and then he let it spark between his fingertips and pressed his hand to his opposite forearm to judge the strength. It felt steadier than a simple static shock, like a soft buzzing against his skin, pulling at the hairs on his arm. He gave a flick of his fingers and doused it again, though he could still feel the rest of the magic hovering under his skin and humming at the back of his skull.

Bending, he brushed his lips against Anders and then pulled back, stroking his hand down Anders' stomach and gripping Anders' cock again, though just him this time. "I've got you, love," he murmured. "You trust me?"

\------

He'd been called greedy and bratty before, and even though Anders let out a noise of complaint when Logan pulled away, he watched with wide eyes, panting, but patient. Whatever Logan needed, if he needed to stop, to slow down, to change what they were doing? Anders was ready to do it. His eyes tracked on what Logan was doing with his hands, feeling the answering buzz of his own magic, a pricking heat and curiosity surging in him.

When Logan's hand circled back around his length and he asked that question, Anders let out a sound like a half-sob, a rough sough of air that caught in his throat. "Yes. Of course I trust you, Logan, fuck. Yes, love." He bucked into Logan's hand, the increased contact, the broad calloused hand circling him entirely, he arched, head pressing into the pillow and hands gripping over Logan's biceps.

\------

Logan half-grinned at him, bashful, pleased, deliriously happy at the level of trust in Anders' voice. "God. God, you're amazing." He pumped his hand up and down Anders' length, his own hips rocking forward as he did so, hitting mostly air, Anders' thigh, occasionally his hand, but Logan ignored his own body, the need building at the base of his spine. 

"Look at you, love," he continued, clearing his throat against the roughness there so he could keep talking. And he did look, the pale curve of Anders' body laid out underneath him, all lean muscle and sharp bone dotted with freckles. "God. You're gorgeous." He leaned back so he could support himself more on his knees between Anders's legs, moving his other hand down to grip at Anders' hip. "I've got you, Anders," he said. "That's it, love. Come for me." He let a little of the magic he'd been keeping back flow down his arm at the word 'come,' less even than he'd used on his own arm just to be safe, but enough sparking-electricity to buzz, blue-white, in his palm and thrum gently against Anders' cock.

\------

While Anders had suspected what Logan was up to, it was nothing compared to the sensation, the sudden dilation of all of his senses, physical, and the newer magical one, as Logan entreated him to let go with his magic tugging and tickling against his skin. "Oh. Oh fuck, Logan. Fuck me." His eyes instead of clenching shut, flew wider, searching and hanging on Logan's as he came apart. 

His cry as he came startled him with it's volume and he dropped one of his hands to his mouth, biting into his forearm to muffle the keening wail as he fucked Logan's hand in tiny, uncontrolled spasms. The way his cock pulsed, come striping his stomach, the curve of his body, the scrabbling of his fingers against Logan's arms, it was all part of the _sharp-hot-good_ pleasure of Logan's touch, the permission in his voice, and the way his magic went deeper than just the skin.

\------

Logan rubbed soothing circles into Anders' hip with one hand and gradually slowed the movements of his other hand. Eventually he sat back on his heels, snagged the towel he'd dropped earlier that was still clinging precariously to the side of the bedspread and threatening to fall off and wiped his hand clean. "That can be arranged, yes." 

He rubbed both hands up Anders' thighs, a steady comforting motion.

"Not too much, then?" he tilted his head, a tiny smile playing at his lips.

\------

Anders slowly went limp under the gentle touches that grounded him as he came down from that amazing, brain-melting release. He cleared his throat, flushing at Logan's quip, and reached down to catch his hands. 

He pulled himself up to sitting, catching Logan's mouth a searing sudden kiss. "My god, Logan, you're un-fucking-believable. That was amazing." He grabbed the towel and wiped his stomach clean, and then looked up, eyes still managing to be hungry. 

"Now... how can I take care of you, sweetheart?" He ran a hand down Logan's chest to his cock, eyes flicking down, and licked his lips consideringly.

\------

Logan's hands gripped tight around Anders' hips at the kiss, smiling happily when Anders broke away.

He shivered when Anders touched him, though. "I mean..." he closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again. "If you..." he waved a hand vaguely at his cock in Anders' hand, clearly trying not to just fuck into the tight circle of fingers right away, his thighs trembling with the effort. "I hadn't got that far," he finally got out in a breathless rush.

\------

Anders fingers gripped gently, squeezing in a slow pulse, but not stroking. He grinned at Logan's trembling, breathless manner and nodded toward the pillows. "You should lie back and get comfy, love." 

He let Logan lie down, taking up the same position as he'd been in, kneeling between his knees, one hand petting the length of his cock, the other running soothing strokes up the inside of his thigh. He brushed the back of his knuckles under Logan's balls, and then asked softly, breathlessly, "Can I taste you, Logan? Please?"

\------

Logan's breath hitched at Anders' soft touches and then at the question he inhaled more raggedly, letting out a soft "fuck" that was barely more than an exhalation.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course, love, if you want to. I mean, I'm clean. I haven't been with anybody in four years."

\------

That wasn't something Anders would normally take on faith in a person, but this was _Logan_. He didn't know how to even begin to doubt his sincerity. He smiled, nodding, and bent to place a kiss just below his navel, nose nuzzling into the divot. He sat back a touch, looking at him, and asked softly, with more emotion, less heat, "Do you want me to?" 

He had been the boy once upon a time who agreed to whatever was asked of him out of love, and he had a feeling that Logan might have been that type as well. "It's only ever going to be things you want, Logan." He kissed the edge of his hipbone next, tracing it with his tongue.

\------

Logan laughed a little. "You are asking me if I want your mouth, and your sinfully talented tongue, on me? My god, love, you're too much." He reached down and curled his fingers in Anders' hair, tugging him up to kiss him, arching slightly off the bed. It was tender, wondering, worshipful, and when Logan pulled back he said, "Yes, god, I want you to, if you want to."

\------

Overthinking. It was a thing Anders was guilty of. He flushed at Logan's laugh, the teasing question, being called too much. He was on the verge of faltering when Logan pulled him up to kiss him, and he felt a flash of relief at the care that Logan put into it. 

"Well I want to. You want me to. I guess that means I should stop talking?" He smirked and kissed Logan's chest, down his belly until his breath was hot against Logan's cock. He kissed the tip, wet and open-mouthed, tongue flicking against the front of the head, along the slit. He glanced up at Logan, checking to see if he was watching, and then with a hand wrapped around the base to hold him steady, took his cock into his mouth, all the way to the back of his throat in one slick push.

\------

Logan grasped a fistful of the blankets underneath him when Anders' warm breath just wafted over his cock. Watching? He was definitely watching, blue eyes rapt on Anders' face, pupils blown wide, though perhaps not wide enough to be noticeable from that distance.

"Holy fuck, Anders," he gasped when Anders took him in so easily. Logan privately thought his own blow job was pretty good; there hadn't been a lot of time for much beyond blow jobs and hand jobs, before with Rowan, except on the rare occasion, but he wasn't nearly _that_ good. It was all so much, the warm wet heat of Anders' mouth, the firm grip of his hand on the base of Logan's cock. That, what they had done already, Anders' cock with his in their joined hands, that had been good, but this was _fantastic_.

His breathing became a little irregular, the veins in his neck sticking out more than usual. "Fuck. Fuck." He panted under his breath.

\------

Anders other hand trailed behind Logan's balls a gentle brush of pressure to the perineum as he swallowed around the cock nudging into his throat. He pulled back, tongue sliding and curling, ending with suction that hollowed his cheeks. He continued to watch Logan's face, listen to his breathing, his panting. He didn't expect him to last long through finesse and teasing. 

He breathed through his nose as he sank back down, and this time as he took nearly the entire length down he let that tender coil of magic, the energy he'd used before bloom beneath the skin of his fingers that were massaging gently between Logan's ass and sack, letting little tendrils of it lick out, like lapping waves. He could imagine doing this with his fingers inside Logan, the sounds he'd make then, and he wanted to try that sometime soon, when they had supplies and facilities. 

He hummed deep in his throat and then pulled up, sucking hard with a swirl of his tongue, around the head, then off to whisper, "Logan, love, I need your hand in my hair."

\------

Logan was reduced to little more than harsh panting breaths, soft whines, mutters of "oh god oh god." At the press of Anders' magic he arched off the bed, his head thrown back against the pillows. "Anders..." He moaned, the name a rasping cry. He was so close already, shook a little at the hum in Anders' throat, choked back a whine of protest when Anders pulled off.

At the request, he bobbed his head up and down in a hurried nod and reached to tangle his fingers in Anders' hair. "Sorry," he mumbled automatically, though he wasn't even sure why he was apologizing.

\------

Anders gave him a gentle kiss on the stomach, a soft soothing hum with it. "Don't be afraid to pull it, hmm?" He smirked as he looked back up at Logan, and then licked his lips, which were wet with his spit. "I don't mind. Is it alright if I try to use a little more magic on you, love?" 

He lapped idly at the ridge of Logan's vein while he kept eye contact, waiting for an answer. He tongued the slit circled the head and started kissing his way back down to his fist, the solid ring of pressure he was keeping at Logan's base.

\------

Logan huffed a laugh, nodding again in response. 

"You, ah, yes, you can, love, but," his fingers tightened in Anders' hair at the way Anders was kissing his way down his cock. He was on edge, every sense trained on the places Anders was touching him, with his hand, with his mouth. He flexed his hand, dragging the pads of his fingers against Anders' scalp, and continued weakly, "I'm not going to last much longer with you," he inhaled, "doing that."

\------

Anders grinned, wicked and wolfish, eyes golden as he swallowed Logan's cock down again. He was glad Logan was so close. It had been a long time since he'd given anyone head and Logan was big enough to strain his out of practice muscles. But he was bloody delicious and Anders made an obscene noise as he slid back down to the circle of his fingers. 

This time when he rose up he let the wave of warm tingling energy, so different than what Logan did with his electricity, bloom in both hands. One at the base of Logan's cock and the other pressed against his perineum with the heel of his hand while his finger pads ghosted against his ass. He bobbed like that, all suction and wet heat, magic twisting between his hands, a caress that went through Logan, until he was about to crash over the edge.

That was when he sucked down, letting Logan to the back of his throat again with a humming groan and convulsive swallow.

\------

Logan caught his breath as Anders swallowed him down again. He was tempted for a moment to slide his eyes shut, lose himself in darkness and focus only on the sensations Anders was giving him, but he wanted to see. He wanted to see the faces Anders was making to go along with those obscene noises, like he'd never tasted anything more delicious in his life; it was quite possibly the hottest thing Logan had ever seen. 

He did tug at Anders' hair, just a touch harder than he meant to, when Anders' magic hummed into him, sinking in beneath his skin, a warm shivering wash of sensation through every sensitive spot at the base of his spine. He twitched forward and half-sobbed and then Anders sucked and he cried out, an aborted sound that he bit down on until it was nothing more than soft whimpers and a hushed repetition of "Anders, oh fuck, Anders. Anders. Anders." Definitely not loud enough to be heard outside the room. He reached behind him and grabbed at the pillow under his head as he came, the whole line of his powerful body taut and trembling, and there was nothing, nothing but the sharp overwhelming haze of pleasure and his own voice chanting Anders' name.

\------

Anders eased Logan through the aftershocks with soft kisses and gentle nuzzling, hands running up and down his thighs with slow strokes, up his stomach until he was resting gently between his legs, face pressed against his chest, panting himself. It was overwhelming, Logan's response, his intensity, but in the most amazing way that Anders could imagine. 

He rested there for a moment, whole body shivering slightly, and then tipped his face to look up, trying to formulate a smile that didn't waver with emotion. He couldn't remember ever being this happy in his entire life, and it seemed like a waste to cry about it. "I didn't kill you did I?" he asked softly and then kissed the middle of Logan's chest with a soft smile.

\------

Logan slumped, boneless, and it was with effort that he released his grip on the pillow behind him and let his other hand drop to Anders' neck. 

"Ruined," he managed, closing his eyes for a moment to breath, his thumb stroking over Anders' chin. He licked his lips and swallowed, trying to force his body to remember what words were.

He opened his eyes and stared at Anders with wonder. "I think you might have ruined me to ever wanting anyone else ever again," he said, voice hoarse. 

Then he noticed the expression Anders was wearing, eyes bright, smile shivery, and his brow furrowed. "Anders?" He cupped his cheek in his hand instead.

\------

"Mm. That's the idea, Logan." He kissed the freckle he noticed near his nose, ignoring the question in Logan's voice as he tried to get a hold of himself. "Not that I'm opposed to open relationships. I mean, it's a better arrangement than most of the alternatives, and trust is more important to me than anything, so I can work with whatever..." 

He frowned, having completely lost the thread of what he'd meant to say as he rambled, trying to get his shit together so he didn't freak Logan out by crying after giving him the most delicious head he'd ever been privileged to perform. He kissed Logan's chest a few more times mapping individual freckles, trying to find some fucking chill somewhere inside himself.

\------

For a brief moment Logan panicked after realizing what he'd just said - Anders had ruined him? Really? Why didn't he just ask him to marry him; that would be about as intense as practically declaring he didn't think he'd want anyone else for the rest of his life. Jesus. But then Anders hummed like he wasn't bothered at all, said that was the idea, even, and Logan took a deep breath and relaxed again. "I don't want an open relationship, love," he said, with some confusion, the idea making him feel a little ill actually. "I just want you." 

He shifted on the bed, trying to get his shoulders braced up slightly on the pillows behind him, putting his weight on one elbow so he could get a better look at Anders' face. "Anders." He frowned. "Anders, look at me, love." He took ahold of his chin and tipped his head back so their eyes met. 

Logan couldn't read the expression on Anders' face, exactly, but he did seem distressed, somehow. Logan bent and captured Anders' lips in a gentle, searching kiss, pulled back to murmur, "What is it?"

\------

The confusion in Logan's voice made Anders flinch. No, Anders didn't want an open relationship either, why the hell had he started nattering about that? He looked at Logan when he caught his face, trying not to look worried, or wary, or tearful or... stupid. Probably failing that last one. He'd never been quite so aware of what his face was doing and had so little control over it. 

He made a soft noise at the kiss, kissed Logan back hard, shifting up the bed with him when he relaxed so that he could rest his head on his shoulder. "Nothing. Everything is bloody wonderful. Except for the fact I'm an idiot who ruins things for trying not to ruin them." He gave a shaky laugh, looking into Logan's eyes. "Ignore me. I'm... god, I feel like my heart is going to explode." 

He grinned, foolishly, probably, even as a tear slid down his cheek. Despite the tears he looked _happy_.

\------

Logan dropped back and wrapped an arm around Anders' shoulders, making a deliberate effort to settle Anders across his chest so that they were touching as much as possible. He played with the hair at the nape of Anders' neck. "Oh," he said softly when Anders spoke, a warm smile blooming on his lips. 

He shifted so he could press the big, worn palm of his other hand over Anders' heart. "Don't do that," he whispered. "I like your heart where it is." 

He thought to kiss the tear from Anders' cheek, and did so, but then with the velvet softness of Anders' skin under his mouth, salt of the tears mixing in with the taste of him, and Anders ensconced thoroughly in his arms, _crying_ about how happy he was, Logan felt his own heart swell near to bursting. "God." He peppered kisses all across Anders' cheeks and face. "I _love you_."

\------

t was like Logan knew all the ways that Anders needed to be touched, hand on his nape, big paw over his heart, wrapped up and pulled close, and then he was kissing him just because he was so sweet. Anders gave a wet soft laugh, almost a giggle despite the tears, just delighted that he could feel this without worrying that he was being too weird. "I think I might love you more," he teased gently, fondly, eyes gleaming. 

He preened under the attention, really, turning his face into each kiss, arching his neck, pressing as tightly as he could to Logan's body, one hand resting over Logan's heart and the other skimming over the top of Logan's head, elbow buried in the pillows above his shoulder. 

"What a pair of saps we are." He sounded utterly delighted by this. "It's gross, really." He turned his face to catch Logan's kiss on his mouth. "I could just die."

\------

Logan laughed lightly at his own words repeated back at him, kissing Anders on the tip of his nose. 

"Gross," he agreed, his voice warm, mellifluous with pleasure, and returned the kiss. His fingers brushed in a circle through Anders' hair and midway down his neck and then back again. It was a steady sweep of his lips, like he could capture Anders and keep him in place just by the pressure of his mouth on his, like he had no intention of ever letting go or pulling back. He hummed, parted his lips to touch his tongue to the center of Anders' mouth where his lips bowed.

\------

Anders was totally fine with that. Just kissing, tender, teasing, soulful, whatever Logan wanted. He was here for all of it. It was easy, without heat or need, a boneless, melting-sweet pleasure that wasn't about sex. Just this precious thing that they'd found. 

He parted his lips to the brush of Logan's tongue, meeting it gently with his own, and then sighed contentedly. He drew back just a touch, lips still brushing Logan's and murmured, "I meant what I said. Absolute nightmare. Kissing for hours." He grinned, kissing him again, lips still parted.

\------

Logan's hands smoothed over Anders' skin where they rested, not moving much, just gentle petting over his chest and his neck. He tried to map the smell of him, that round powdery smell of his skin under his sweat, and under that a crisp sterile scent still lingering, like the one hospitals always smelled of. He huffed. 

"I think," he said between brief kisses, "I might...be crushed...by how awful that sounds." He smirked, leaning in to slip his tongue in Anders' mouth then, coaxing Anders' tongue out slightly before he did that thing Anders was always doing where he sucked on Anders' tongue, gently.

\------

Anders made a tiny noise in his throat. He was still too boneless to do anything about it, but the sensation of Logan sucking on his tongue made his soft length twitch against his leg. When he broke the kiss again he was breathless. "You really are trying to kill me." 

He grinned as he shifted to kiss the corner of Logan's jaw, the line of his neck, nibbling gently at the ridge of his collarbone. "I'm going to kiss every one of these freckles. Eventually. It might take me a few years." He glanced up and pressed a kiss to Logan's nose. "Especially if I keep losing my place." He kissed him under his right eye. "And have to start over." The upper edge of his left brow.

\------

Logan looked a little smug, his lips quirking, and then Anders started kissing his freckles. He arched his neck back to accommodate him, his hand drifting into Anders' hair again, and shivered with the simple pleasure of Anders' lips ghosting across his skin. He sighed, content. 

"You've got time, love."

\------

Anders wondered about that, given everything that they didn't understand about where they were and what had happened to them, but he hummed in agreement with the sentiment. Logan wanted him, he wanted Logan, and that was enough.


End file.
